Elizabeth Wellington and The Boy Who Lived
by miserabilia
Summary: When Elizabeth's first year at Hogwarts starts, it doesn't go quite as smoothly as she could have hoped for when she winds up on the wrong side of staff members, disobeys orders, and nearly gets expelled all with her new friends she met in Gryffindor.
1. Prologue

A small umber coloured owl sat perched perfectly still on a street lamp in front of number four, Pivet Drive. He clutched a letter between his talons, careful not to drop it and alert the tabby cat watching the same house and the same family that he had watched all afternoon of his presence. He did not put it past her to pounce on him if she got the chance. Darkness washed over the street and the only lights left were the shooting stars still streaking across the sky above him.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

The owl's attention snapped from the tabby cat to the man speaking. He recognised the man in the purple cloak, although it had been months since their last encounter. Albus Dumbledore had not changed a bit. The owl listened in on their conversation, still gripping the letter until he found the right time to make himself known. He solemnly sat as Dumbledore told Professor McGonagall the news.

"I've written them a letter," said Dumbledore.

Professor McGonagall quickly argued with Dumbledore, but was reassured that leaving him in the Muggle world was for the best. The owl let go of his letter, letting it fall in front of Professor McGonagall, who took notice of him immediately. Her eyes narrowed, seeming less than thrilled to see him, but familiar with him nonetheless.

"Ah, Talons." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled as he peered at him over his half-moon spectacles. "I did not expect your presence here tonight."

Professor McGonagall handed Dumbledore the letter. "Mr. Wellington is surely too busy celebrating to have come himself." Her tone was evidence of her dislike of the absent Mr. Wellington.

"Perhaps," said Dumbledore, winking at the owl as he opened the letter. "I see." Professor McGonagall watched him read the letter intently. "It seems that young William is in possession of a few of James and Lily's items he thinks Harry might care for when he gets older. He may have them upon request."

"You trust William to return them undamaged? The boy is a walking disaster. I'm surprised he made it through the war."

Talons let out a loud, threatening hoot directed at Professor McGonagall.

"It seems that Talons disagrees." Dumbledore folded the letter and slipped it in his robes. "And so do I. Whatever William is in possession of will be fine in his care until they can be confidently handed over to Harry."

A low rumbling disrupted the discussion. Talons saw the large motorbike fall from the sky and took off from his resting spot on the street lamp by Professor Dumbledore. He relocated a short distant down the street, but out of sight, continuing to listen to the conversation. Dumbledore looked back to the street light to find Talons gone.

The owl had long since disappeared by the time Dumbledore placed Harry on the doorstep, leaving a young man leaning against the street lamp it was previously resting on. He observed the best he could as the three figures standing in front of number four Pivet Drive stared at the bundle left on the doorstep. He watched as the light from the motorbike hit him briefly as Hagrid took off into the night. Dumbledore nodded slightly when the light caught him. All he could do was nod back. He pushed down the sleeves of his oversized jumper and walked off toward the end of the dark street, not knowing the next time he would see any of them.

The streets were filled with wizards, running freely around in their cloaks, and witches exchanging gossip. He dug his hands in his pockets and looked up at the sky, shooting stars still falling freely.

"To James and Lily," he whispered.

He pushed his way through the crowds of Muggles and magic folk alike, looking for a secluded place to apparate back to Diagon Alley. The last place William Wellington wanted to be for a while was in the mist of excitement and action.

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter One, The Boy Who Lived, pages 8 to 17.

I figured that by the logic that there are five boys in Gryffindor house in Harry's year there very well could have been five during the Marauder's years at Hogwarts.


	2. Chapter One

Elizabeth Wellington had never had a cavity, never broken a bone, and never met a Muggle. She had lived her whole life with her grandparents above the bookshop Flourish & Blotts, which her grandfather ran. She knew very little of the Muggle world, except from the bits and pieces of the passing conversations she picked up on in Diagon Alley. She knew plenty of wizarding things though. She knew the positions at the Ministry of Magic, she knew the rules of Quidditch, and most importantly she knew about Hogwarts. She would be starting her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in September and had spent all summer asking her older brother Richard what it was like. From the minute he got off the Hogwarts Express for summer holiday, she began bothering him all about classes, professors, houses, and even the many ghosts residing in the castle.

Elizabeth liked to know all she could. It was a trait that ran in her family. She preferred reading in her spare time, she fancied solving puzzles, and she rather enjoyed learning altogether. She had learned from Richard that she was a perfect candidate to become a Ravenclaw, much like himself. He prided himself on the fact he was also made prefect this year. He brought it up every time Elizabeth had a question about school. She thought it terribly like Richard to be so full of himself.

She sat in a large, brown leather chair in the parlour, reading _A History of Magic_. She had already read it more than once, but it was required reading for first years, and besides, she found herself rather bored that afternoon. Her grandfather had a shop to tend to, her grandmother was preparing dinner, and Richard knew as much about fun as the Gringotts goblins. The only one in the house that Elizabeth considered any fun, besides her grandfather, but he was limited by age, was her dear uncle William. He lived with them, if one could even consider what he did living there. He came and went as he pleased, when he pleased, and if he was going to even come back was a question her grandmother had to ask every time he walked out the front door. Elizabeth knew he was rather forgetful sometimes. He fancied going off to visit friends far away without telling anyone, or making stops in the Muggle world on his way home and completely losing track of time. He had a terrible habit of doing that and it worried his mother sick.

The grandfather clock in the parlour struck seven. The whereabouts of William were still unknown and Elizabeth was utterly bored with nothing to do except read. She peered into the kitchen at her grandmother preparing dinner. Elizabeth never understood why she took pleasure in the tedious housework. She couldn't begin to fathom why anyone would actually enjoy washing filthy clothes and picking up after messy children, but her grandmother did.

The stairs creaked and Elizabeth knew it could only be one person.

"Richard," she called him as he passed the door. "Know where Uncle William's been?"

"Who cares?" Richard always had the attitude of a cranky cat. "It's quiet around here for once. Enjoy it while it lasts."

She never cared much for Richard. She found him quite smug at times and he always spoke down to her. She tried to be as nice to him as possible when home, for her grandmother's sake, but Richard made it rather difficult. Elizabeth thought he tried to act far too old for his age. He thought it made him more mature. She just thought it made him dull.

She shifted in her chair. "But he's been gone since yesterday morning and I've got nothing to do."

"Go read a book or something." He brushed her off as he walked away.

Elizabeth sunk back into the chair and looked at the book in her hands. "Thanks Richard, you're a big help." She cautiously looked back at her grandmother. "Gran," she said softly. "Gran." She waited for a response. "Gran!"

She turned around to reveal a small, severe looking elderly woman. Her chestnut-brown hair was beginning to grey and she wore it half pulled back. Her dark eyes narrowed. The only thing Elizabeth found more intimidating than her grandmother's glare was the sound of her high heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

Margaret Wellington liked order, she liked organisation, and most of all, she liked cleanliness. She preferred the house to remain as spotless as possible. She required Elizabeth and Richard to keep their bedrooms neat, and since William couldn't seem to follow this rule, she cleaned his bedroom for him. She had a habit of dusting twice a day and she was stuck in her old fashion ways.

Elizabeth never got along much with her. She was a very strict woman who enforced the house rules mercilessly. It was safe to say she was an authoritarian, but at least it kept Elizabeth from stepping out of line too much. Richard had told her it kept him from doing anything questionable at school as well. The thought of what Margaret would do to him when he got home was enough to scare him straight.

"Where's Uncle William?" Elizabeth asked.

Margaret sighed. She turned her back on Elizabeth and resumed preparing dinner. "I don't know."

Elizabeth slid out of the chair and placed her book quietly on it. She slunk over to the wall separating the kitchen from the parlour. She pressed her body to it as she peeked into the kitchen at her grandmother.

"Did he say when he was coming back?" she asked innocently.

"No, he did not."

"Oh." She quietly moved into the kitchen. Margaret turned around at the sound of the front door opening as Elizabeth rushed to look down the entrance hall. "It's just Gramps," she said, slightly disappointed.

Elizabeth's grandfather was very different from her grandmother. Contrary to Margaret's uptight attitude and strict enforcement of the rules, Elizabeth's grandfather was laid back and much more lenient when it came to Richard and her. Elizabeth never truly saw what attracted him to her grandmother, truth be told.

He was only three years older than Margaret, but his once blond hair had completely greyed and he was slowly going senile. He wore thick, square glasses which magnified his green eyes. Sometimes he would spend hours searching for them, only to realise he was wearing them all along.

"Do you know where Uncle William is?" Elizabeth asked as he came into the kitchen holding a leather-bound book.

"Elizabeth, stop asking that," Margaret demanded.

"But he's been gone since yesterday morning and ─"

"Elizabeth, stop your whingeing." She walked over to the cabinets, pulled out the dinner plates, and held them out towards Elizabeth. "If you're bored, do me a favour and lay the table."

Elizabeth reluctantly took the plates and began placing them on the table.

"Is William gone?" her grandfather asked. "It has been quieter I suppose."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Her grandfather was known to make jokes no one but himself found funny.

"Thomas, has Odysseus returned yet?"

Odysseus was the family's barn owl, whom Elizabeth cared none for. He had a poor temperament and bit almost anyone who tried to touch him. Her grandparents used him frequently to send letters, and up until that summer, Richard had as well until their grandparents had bought him his own owl for being made prefect this year. Richard named him Telemachus and Elizabeth thought he looked rather like a small, fat, brown feather duster, but Richard had grown quite fond of him anyway. He was still a young owl. Most of his day was spent screeching and sleeping when he wasn't causing a commotion. Elizabeth called him Pudgy, but Richard insisted he was just heavily feathered.

Richard never let her send letters with him, but she didn't mind as she didn't quite trust him to make much of a journey yet. Instead, Elizabeth was known to send letters via a small light umber coloured owl named Talons, whom had a love of free falling and chasing other owls. However, she was only allowed to send letters to her grandmother in France with him, as she didn't have anyone else to send letters to at such a young age. He had a nasty habit of not coming back for days though when she did, and Margaret always had to yell at him when he came home.

"Not yet," said Thomas as he put the book on the tabletop and sat down in his chair at the end of the table.

"What's that?" Elizabeth's curiosity got the better of her.

"It appears that someone has been drawing rather...suggestive cartoons of the shop owners in Diagon Alley." He opened the book and showed Elizabeth a caricature of Madam Malkin, which was quickly snatched away by Margaret when Elizabeth giggled.

"That little louse," Margaret muttered under her breath as she tucked the book into her oversized pockets and grabbed a serving plate off the counter. She nearly dropped it on the table in front of Elizabeth, causing bits of chicken to fly off and land on the white tablecloth. "Elizabeth, sit down." She pushed Elizabeth into a chair. "Richard, dinner!"

Margaret smoothed out her long skirt as she sat down and unfolded her serviette to place on her lap. Elizabeth exchanged looks with Thomas as an awkward silence hung in the room.

"What?" Margaret asked. "Eat."

Thomas started fixing himself as plate as Margaret grabbed Elizabeth's plate.

"I don't like cabbage," Elizabeth said as Margaret scooped a heavy heaping of steamed cabbage on her plate.

Margaret just looked at her sternly and scooped more cabbage on Elizabeth's plate. Every night Elizabeth would tell Margaret she didn't care for what had been prepared for dinner, and therefore wouldn't be eating, but Margaret would have none of it when she was in a bad mood, which was always, so it seemed. She placed the plate in front of Elizabeth, who quickly pushed it away, but Margaret pushed it back.

"Eat," she said sternly. "Richard!"

Richard popped his head into the room. "Anyone seen Odysseus?" he asked.

"He is currently delivering a letter for your grandfather," Margaret said. Elizabeth tried to pushed the cabbage to the top of her plate while Margaret was distracted, but Margaret simply spun the plate around so it was all at the bottom in front of Elizabeth. "Eat your cabbage," she told her. "Richard, sit down, it's dinnertime."

"No thanks. Not hungry." His head disappeared behind the wall.

"Richard!"

Richard stood his ground in the doorway between the kitchen and the parlour. "Uncle William doesn't have to eat when he doesn't want to. Why do I?"

Odysseus had appeared at the kitchen window and was waiting to get in.

"Gran," Elizabeth tried interrupting.

Margaret raised her voiced sternly. "Because you live under my roof."

"But so does he."

Odysseus was tapping at the window with his beak.

"Hey Gran." Elizabeth tugged on her skirt, but Margaret ignored her, lightly smacking Elizabeth's hand away.

"Eat your dinner," she told Elizabeth. "And you're fifteen, Richard. William is thirty-one. Despite his behaviour, he _is_ an adult."

"But —"

Odysseus was now trying to unlatch the window.

"Ehm, Gran —"

"Not now, Elizabeth."

Thomas tried to defuse the situation. "Richard, what your grandmother means is when you're William's age, you'll have the same choices he has."

"Hopefully he won't still be living at home though," Margaret muttered.

"Maggie, please."

Richard stomped into the kitchen, pulled his chair out violently, and sat down. Margaret said nothing to him and continued her meal as if the conversation had just not occurred at all. Odysseus slammed his talons into the window, causing Margaret to jump out her seat.

"Gran, Odysseus wants in," Elizabeth said.

Richard got out of his chair. "Good, now I can send my letter."

"You," Margaret pointed to Richard, "sit down and eat your dinner." Margaret got up to open the window for Odysseus, who immediately flew on the table, dropping a letter in front of Thomas.

"But I want to send my reply to Percy tonight."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked.

Richard glared at her. "Shut it."

"Don't tell your sister to shut it," Margaret scolded.

Elizabeth was grinning. "You two still swooning over that girl?"

"Shut it, Elizabeth Ann," Richard growled.

Richard had a terrible habit of calling Elizabeth by her first and middle name as if it were one. It drove her mad, simply because she couldn't do it back to him, as Richard Oliver Thomas was a mouthful.

"Richard, for the last time don't tell your sister to shut it." Margaret demanded. "What girl?"

"Some Ravenclaw he and Percy have been chasing."

A gust of wind blew Elizabeth's hair as another owl flew in through the window and down the back hallway.

"Elizabeth!" Richard threw down his silverware.

"What's the racket?"

Uncle William, appearing rather unkept in his old faded jumper and tattered jeans, which had a new hole covered in blood and bandages, was casually leaning against the wall in the kitchen. He sniffled as he came into the room, pushing the hair out of his eyes. It was long and never brushed, which annoyed Margaret to the point where she'd chase after him with scissors somedays in hopes of getting a few centimetres off so she could see his eyes. He looked far more like Thomas than like her and was heavily freckled with an unusually large burn mark on his arm from the time he got so mad at Margaret, the fireplace exploded in a mess of ash and flames, catching a good portion of his right arm and the back of the settee in the parlour. He seemed not to mind the disfigurement.

He was a terribly odd fellow who fancied collecting broken items. All his possessions were unnecessarily tawdry or terribly worn out. Most of all, he was accident prone. He would trip up and down the stairs, fall out of bed, bump into corners, hit his head on the wardrobe doors, slip on the hardwood floors, cut himself on things that weren't even sharp, and every morning like clockwork, he would slam his hand in the toilet seat cover trying to put it down. Margaret always said it was a miracle he lived to see thirty-one.

"What did you do to yourself now?" Margaret asked once she saw the cut on his leg.

"Ran into a hedge."

"You're a walking disaster, William."

"That's not fair. If that fat man wasn't chasing me, I wouldn't have flown right into it."

"Well, that's what you get for —" She stopped mid sentence. "You louse!"

Elizabeth was fairly convinced at this point in her young life that "louse" was the single most used word in her grandmother's vocabulary, followed by "stop" and "no," of course. She used it at least once a day, usually more, and it was always used in reference to William, whether he was around to hear it or not.

"Mum —"

"Can I go now?" Richard asked.

"It's 'May I go?" and not until you finish your dinner," Margaret said. "William!" He was trying to sneak back down the hallway into his bedroom. "Get back here!"

Margaret chased after him and Elizabeth took the opportunity to shovel the cabbage from her plate to Richard's as he scarfed his food down.

"Knoff iff off, Elisabeth Ann," Richard slurred out through a mouth full of food.

"You do this every year!" Margaret could be heard loud and clear.

Richard pushed all the cabbage back on Elizabeth's plate before he sprung up from his chair.

"_May_ I go now?" he asked.

Thomas simply nodded and Richard ran upstairs to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"You deserve it!" Margaret yelled.

"Gramps?" Elizabeth asked meekly.

"Hmm," Thomas mumbled, cleaning his glasses in his serviette.

"What's Gran so mad about now?"

"Thomas!" Margaret had appeared ragged in the hallway. "Do something about your son because I'm done!"

"I wish!" William yelled from his bedroom and Margaret rushed back in for round two of the argument.

"Your uncle has a bit of a problem listening to your grandmother sometimes," Thomas said.

"Thomas!"

"Like when she tells him to be back by dinner, or to let her know if he's going to visit Mamie —"

Elizabeth and Richard had lived with Thomas and Margaret ever since their parents had died. They had no other family on their father's side beyond Uncle William, and Margaret's sister Catherine, who had a very peculiar husband named Oscar that played with toy train sets. They had one surviving son out of three, Michael, who was married, but had no children, just a lot of hunting dogs and an unsociable cat named Twinkle. On their mother's side, they only had their grandmother, whom they called Mamie.

She was a very wild French woman with an appetite for life. She lived in Alsace and they rarely visited her because Margaret didn't want them going to France on their own. Therefore Mamie came to visit them in Diagon Alley, much to Margaret's disapproval. She quite fancied printed fabrics and royal purple with gold trim. She started every morning by dancing, which Margaret considered silly and inappropriate behaviour. She smelled of passionfruit, her hair was a different style every time they saw her, and she always wore blue around her eyes. Margaret loved to complained highly of her and would chew out William about going to see her. William was quite taken with Mamie though, as she was an awful lot like the kind of people he tended to associate with.

"You louse!" A loud crash accompanied Margaret's voice.

"He went to visit Mamie?" Elizabeth asked.

"Uh, no," Thomas said, looking down the hall. "He, uh, well, he went —"

William marched into the kitchen with a large red mark on his face. "Tell her it's his birthday."

"Uh," Thomas looked at Elizabeth, then back at William and Margaret, who had stormed into the kitchen behind her son. "It's his birthday tomorrow, Maggie. Cut the boy some slack."

Margaret put her hands on her hips. "Elizabeth, go to your room."

"But —"

"Go!"

Elizabeth dropped her silverware on her plate and reluctantly got up from her chair. She hated being chased from the room when there was an argument brewing. All she wanted was to know what was going on, but Margaret always made sure the children were kept in the dark about as much as possible. Everything was on a need to know basis and Richard and Elizabeth clearly didn't need to know.

She took her time leaving the kitchen and slowly climbed up the stairs, hoping to catch a bit of the conversation as she left the room. As she passed Richard's room at the top of the stairs, the door cracked opened and he hissed at her.

"Hey." He peered through the crack in the door. "Who are they talking about?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "They're talking about it being his birthday tomorrow."

"Whose birthday?"

"Elizabeth, go to your room," Margaret called from the kitchen. Elizabeth turned around to see her grandmother watching her with a stern expression on her face. "Go." She took a few more steps toward her door before she turned around to watch her uncle take some ice from the freezer and put it on his red cheek. "_Elizabeth_." Margaret didn't have to warn her again.

The question of whose birthday it was plagued them both for the rest of the night. They spent all breakfast exchanging looks, secretly wondering if they should bring it up or let it go. They didn't bother asking their grandmother. They knew her too well to think she would tell them. She was terribly good at keeping secrets and avoiding unwanted subjects. Fortunately, William knew most of what Margaret was hiding and Richard and Elizabeth could always find out from him if they really wanted to know. Of course, William never revealed his own secrets unless he wanted anyone to know, which was rarely. He enjoyed possessing a hint of mystery. It was very much like a game to him.

After breakfast, Richard and Elizabeth had decided it was much easier to ask their grandfather. He was becoming forgetful in his old age and wasn't hard to trick. Elizabeth thought it was taking advantage of him, but Richard saw it differently. He would tell her that if Gran didn't want them to eventually find out, then she would never let Gramps know in the first place. Elizabeth still believed it was tricking him and despised taking part in it.

Richard and Elizabeth spent most of their free time helping their grandfather in the bookshop. Flourish & Blotts wasn't what one would expect from an average bookshop and their grandfather required a lot of help once the Hogwarts letters had been sent out. The shelves were stocked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.

That morning, Richard was dusting as Elizabeth organised a new shipment of schoolbooks. She sat on one of the rungs of the ladder, taking books from her grandfather and stacking them in a pyramid. As Thomas picked up another book to hand to her, it slipped from his grasp and fell open on the floor.

"I'll get it," Elizabeth said.

"No, no," said Thomas, groaning as he bent down. "I can get it. My knees could use the workout anyway."

Richard motioned for her to ask Thomas about the previous night. She shook her head. "No," she mouthed. He raised the duster like he was going to throw it at her.

"Here you go, darling." Thomas had retrieved the book and handed it to Elizabeth. Richard quickly resumed his dusting. "A little slippery, eh?" He chuckled to himself.

She took the book as she looked back at Richard. He motioned for her to ask again. "Hey Gramps," said Elizabeth innocently. "Whose birthday is it today?"

Thomas looked at her over his glasses. "I should've known you'd ask."

"I didn't want to, Richard made me."

"Elizabeth Ann!" Richard threw down the duster. "You little narc!"

Thomas laughed. "You two," he said shaking his head. "Curiosity will get the better of you." He handed Elizabeth another book for the display.

Richard scowled at Elizabeth as he picked up the duster to resume cleaning. She stuck her tongue out at him in response.

She hesitated for a second. "So, whose birthday is it?"

Thomas's grip on the book in his elderly hands tightened. "An old acquaintance of William," he said as he avoided eye contact with her.

Richard looked up from the dusting and caught the eye of Elizabeth. "Ask who," he mouthed. She shook her head again. "Ask who!" Richard mouthed anxiously.

Elizabeth sighed. "Who?"

"Just an old acquaintance."

She could tell he was avoiding the real answer. "Then why isn't he allowed to see him?"

"Your gran just doesn't like him to."

"Why not?"

"Well ─"

Thomas's expression changed quickly as two people entered the store. A large giant with shaggy hair and a beard to match stood near the entrance. Behind him was a skinny boy, no older than Elizabeth. His black hair appeared rather untidy and his round glasses were held together by tape.

"Hagrid!" Thomas exclaimed.

"'Ello Thomas. How yer been?" said Hagrid.

"Oh, fine, fine, just fine," said Thomas. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as her grandfather completely ignored the subject at hand. Richard just picked up the duster and went back to clearing cobwebs from the corners of the shelves. "And who do we have here?" Thomas directed his attention towards the boy behind Hagrid.

"This is Harry," Hagrid introduced the boy.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter." Thomas lowered his glasses. "First year at Hogwarts, rather exciting, rather exciting indeed."

Richard and Elizabeth's ears perked up at the last name.

"Thomas is a very good friend o' mine, Harry," Hagrid explained. "Known him fer years. Went ter Hogwarts with him. Knew his sons when they went too. An' his grandchildren too."

Elizabeth smiled as he shot a glance in her direction.

"Come on, Harry," said Thomas. "I'll help you get your books."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Richard rushed over to Elizabeth. "That's it, isn't it?" he said in a hushed voice.

Elizabeth knew what he was talking about. She looked over her shoulder to make sure their grandfather was out of sight. When she saw him busy pulling books off the shelves and talking to Hagrid, she leaned down to respond to Richard. "It must be. It is his birthday after all."

Richard peered down the stop at Harry being buried under the books Thomas was handing him. "So Uncle William went to see him last night?"

"Brilliant deduction, Richard," Elizabeth mocked him, having figured out very quickly where her uncle had been the previous night and why he was there.

Richard hit her hard across the leg, prompting her to smack him back. Their grandfather perked up at the noise and the two of them stopped when they noticed him. He gave them a disapproving look for a moment before quickly attending to Harry again.

Elizabeth glared down at Richard from the ladder. "Swot," she said.

"Churl."

* * *

**A/N:** Plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter Five, Diagon Alley, pages 80 to 81.


	3. Chapter Two

The last month before school passed nearly without incident. Margaret attempted to punish William, only to have him tell her he was no longer a child and hadn't been effectively punished in fifteen years. She took it rather hard. When he said it, she looked positively horrified and took to her room for the rest of the day, refusing to come out until he had left. Thomas had to take her dinner and told Elizabeth and Richard not to mention it the next morning when she came down to breakfast. William said next to nothing to her since it happened, and surprisingly Margaret hadn't pushed him, if he were to run off and not come back to make sure Richard and Elizabeth were taken to school on time. With Margaret's job at the Ministry and Thomas running the stop, they relied on William to take Richard to King's Cross every year to catch the Hogwarts Express. Elizabeth usually tagged along to jeer at Richard, since it wasn't until December that she had the opportunity again, but this year she would be able to taunt him all year at school, and this made her rather pleased.

The night before her first day, Elizabeth found it nearly impossible to sleep. She crept down the staircase of her attic bedroom and down the hall. She paused at the corner of the two upstairs hallways and peered down the other way toward her grandparents's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, but she could hear Thomas's snoring with no trouble. She silently continued past Richard's room to the stairs and slowly crept down the staircase, taking precautions to keep the wooden steps from creaking as much as possible. A light in the parlour caught her attention when she entered the kitchen.

William lay on the settee, rolling a pocket watch between his fingers.

"What're you doing?" Elizabeth asked as she entered the parlour.

He snatched the watch in his fist and sat up to look at her. "What're _you_ doing?" He slipped the watch between the cushions.

William had a strange way of dealing with things. He didn't talk about what was going on, he rarely showed emotion, and he avoided whatever was bothering him. Instead, he was often caught in various parts of the house in the middle of the night. One time she had caught him building a puzzle in the sitting room and another time rearranging the spice rack to hopefully annoy Margaret when she discovered them out of order. Elizabeth figured something had to be bothering him.

"What's with the pocket watch?"

"It's Grandpa's."

"Gramps has a pocket watch?"

William got up from the settee with the watch and walked over to the mantle. "_My_ grandpa."

"Oh."

William's grandfather was Oliver Albright, Minister for Magic, and Margaret's father until 1974 when Voldemort led a raid on the Ministry, killing him and Thomas's older sister Abigail, who was working there at that time, along with several other workers. William had been particularly fond of him and his Aunt Abigail, but especially Oliver, who had given William magic lessons from a very early age, and a stuffed lemur when he was three that William still refused to part with despite the fact its left eye was threatening to fall off at any moment and it was dirtier than a pile of mud. It was still hidden in the back of his cupboard, protected by a charm ever since Margaret had tried to obliterate it nearly ten years prior.

"Tell me, kid," he said, "What're you doing up at three-thirty in the morning?"

"Couldn't sleep," she admitted. "I'm worried about tomorrow."

"First day's always a bit unnerving."

"Richard says I'm gonna be a Ravenclaw, so I shouldn't be fretting so much, but Gran keeps whispering to Madam Malkin about you and they both look my way when they do. She thinks I'm going to be another one, doesn't she?"

Wellingtons have been attending Hogwarts since its founding, known almost always to be sorted into Ravenclaw. William quite prided himself on being the first ever Gryffindor, but also resented that it effectively ostracised him from most of his family.

He nodded his head and leaned against the mantle. "She does." Elizabeth groaned when he said it. "But you don't know that and it's not a bad thing if it happens. I quite loved it there, but you could be a Ravenclaw and it's not bad there either. Richard likes it and Nick liked it too."

"But Gran and Gramps were there too and they've been telling me all about it. They seem so happy when they do. Gran told Madam Malkin though I'm really bright and she knows I'll be good with magic like Dad. She said everyone in the family has been a Ravenclaw, except for you, and she dead hates you for it."

"Mum hated me before I ever went to school. Gryffindor just gave her another reason to yell at me. She's never liked me, but she shouldn't be so quick to judge. I wasn't the first to ever be something other than a Ravenclaw."

"Really?"

"Of course. Aunt Abigail was a Hufflepuff and she probably wasn't the first. It's not like there hasn't been the occasional rebel. No one ever talks about them is all so you expect that they don't exist. It's the way we are. Black sheep get brushed under the carpet and no one ever hears about them. There's a book somewhere upstairs though that keeps track of everyone and we're all in there. It records Hogwarts houses I believe. Never really got a chance to look through it though. Mum keeps it locked up, probably so no one else knows what I just told you."

"But Gramps talks about Aunt Abigail all the time."

Aunt Abigail was apparently a vivacious woman who William thoroughly enjoyed, and was consequently blamed by Margaret for his behaviour as a child. She loved music, as well as a good game of Quidditch. How she did shock her parents when she became a Chaser on her house team. Abigail was set to marry a pure-blood wizard and become a housewife, but never did. She backed out of the engagement and began working in the Ministry in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. She was killed in the mid-70s for being part of the resistance against Voldemort. Thomas still talked about her from time to time, sometimes mentioning she was quite the fighting spirit and he was proud of her, only when Margaret wasn't around, of course. She never did care for Abigail.

"Of course he does. She was his sister, even if she didn't follow everything her parents planned out for her. Dad didn't follow the plans for him and I think he's better off for it."

Thomas came from a long line of pure-blood fanatics. They associated with other pure-blood families, believing that Muggles were lesser beings and refusing to accept Muggle-borns and other outcasts. Abigail was three years older than Thomas and by the time he started Hogwarts, Hufflepuff had changed her mind. She saw her family's ideals to be inappropriate and scolded Thomas every time she caught him promoting elitism. Eventually, Thomas had realised that Abigail was right in the way she treated other people, both magical and non, and that his parents's teachings were narrow-minded. His parents stopped communicating with Abigail once she had moved out, but kept contact with Thomas until their deaths. While he no longer supported them or kept ties with other pure-blood elitists, he married a pure-blood witch, which was enough for them to keep on good terms with him.

Margaret's family structure was similar, except her father was the accepting one in her family. William cared deeply for both Aunt Abigail and his grandfather, and it was no surprise to Elizabeth, as William was always the one to befriend a misfit. Some had even gone as far to call him a Muggle lover, which never seemed to bother him, but Elizabeth thought it rude since it was meant as an insult. While his grandfather wasn't preoccupied with bloodlines, Margaret couldn't help but retain the teachings of her mother. It was obvious that she tried to be kind to everyone on the surface, but she was still judgmental deep inside. Fortunately, Margaret's disapproval was directed both ways. She had quite the qualm with certain pure-blood families and the way they treated others, including their own family members.

"He's very pleased with the bookshop," William continued. "He wanted the same for us growing and Mum tried best not to get too upset too often about it. She did have a right fit when Nick told her he wanted to marry your mum though. We spent the afternoon hiding in my bedroom for that one."

He seemed happy for a moment and Elizabeth forced a smile. She never knew her father, but from the way her grandparents and William talked about him, she would have very much liked to meet him. She was only two months old when he died and therefore remembered nothing of him. All that she knew came from pictures and stories her family told. William was quite the storyteller and he loved to enchant her with tales about his childhood. Nicholas was five years William's senior and he was described as being very mature, taking care of William instead of fighting with him like Richard did with Elizabeth. Richard did always tell Elizabeth he thought he remembered both their parents, but he never could be sure. One thing was sure, William always spoke very highly of his older brother and Elizabeth was sure Nicholas's death was one of the things that kept him up at night.

"She found us. In retrospect, hiding in the first place she normally looks for me wasn't the best idea. I've gotten better at hiding from her I think. Now she doesn't know where to look for me." Elizabeth laughed. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"You," Elizabeth said. "You actually think she still looks for you."

Elizabeth enjoyed occasionally teasing her uncle. Margaret did still look for William, to some extent. If he was quiet for too long, she became suspicious and checked his bedroom. If she didn't find him, she assumed him to have gone out and left it at that. If he hadn't returned in a week, she began to worry, and two weeks warranted sending Thomas out to find him. He never stayed out more than three weeks without sending word home of where he was. He had once spent the majority of summer holiday with one of his friends without telling Margaret. When he got home, Margaret says a verbal fight ensued, but Richard told Elizabeth that meant she beat him. William never confirmed nor denied it, so Elizabeth didn't know what to believe. She did know that he never stayed out for more than three weeks though without telling Margaret, because she said if he ever did so again, he might as well not come home at all, and William knew she meant it.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked.

"I don't want to. Tell me a story," she begged.

He put his finger to his lips, indicating for her to lower her voice. "One story, but you must be quiet." Elizabeth nodded. "Which one?"

"The pop up book!"

William hushed her. "Alright, it's in my room. Come on." Elizabeth ran out into the kitchen and the light in the parlour went off behind her. "Quiet!" William hissed.

"Sorry."

William picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her to his bedroom. William's bedroom was down the back hallway and not a bedroom at all. The room used to be used as Thomas's study until Thomas and Margaret took custody of Richard and Elizabeth. When William was growing up, he had the attic bedroom, which was now Elizabeth's. He gave it up originally for Richard, as it was very private and he was gone often, not really benefitting from it anymore, but Richard was terrified to sleep up there alone as a child and it became Elizabeth's. He instead moved into Thomas's study, which annoyed Margaret, as they had to then move half the things into the parlour, half into the upstairs storage, and Thomas simply had to admit the loss of his private area. Margaret always said she was unsure why William couldn't have moved into Nicholas's old bedroom, but even Elizabeth knew it'd be too painful for him.

Unlike Elizabeth's room, which was painted bright blue with carpet to match, as it was William's favourite colour as a child, his current room was much more demure. If it wasn't usually a complete mess, Elizabeth wouldn't have thought it belonged to him at all. The floor was typically covered in clothes, except for a small spot in the corner that had several books stacked neatly on top of each other. However, the clothes had been picked up and the bed made, which led Elizabeth to believe Margaret had cleaned it earlier that day. She had left a pile of clean clothes on the desk that was lined with framed photographs and pages of illegible writing.

William put her down inside the room and closed the door behind them. The lights turned on with a flick of William's wand and the first thing Elizabeth noticed was a scarlet and gold scarf hanging over one of the cupboard doors. He picked her up and dropped her on his bed with a bounce. A loud laugh escaped from Elizabeth and he promptly hushed her.

"Be quiet," he said seriously. He started looking over his bookshelf.

"What've you been reading?" She picked up a book on his beside cabinet. "_An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms_," she read aloud. "Sounds more like mandatory school reading than for fun."

"Just looking for something."

"Like what? Don't you know them all?"

He shook his head. "No, it's impossible to know everything, no matter how hard I try." He pulled the book out. "Here we go." He opened it up and a black castle popped up on the page. Elizabeth made herself comfortable in his bed as he sat down next to her and placed the book in his lap. "Deep in the Carpathian Mountains —"

"Where are those?" Elizabeth asked.

"Transylvania," he said shortly.

"Where's that?"

"Nowhere. It doesn't exist anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"'Cause why?"

He was becoming increasingly annoyed. "'Cause Romania took it."

"Where's that?"

"You know where that is. Charlie works there."

"But which way?"

William pointed out the window. "That way somewhere." Elizabeth was silent for a moment and William continued reading. "Deep in the Carpathian Mountains lay a castle —"

"Like Hogwarts?"

William sighed. "No, not like Hogwarts."

"Oh."

"Deep in the Carpathian Mountains lay a castle that —"

"Why not?"

"Because Hogwarts has no vampires."

"Oh. Why —"

"If you ask me why not one more time I'm going to close the book and send you to bed."

"I'm listening!" Elizabeth cried, pulling the sheets up. "There's a castle in the Capathian Mountains."

"Carpathian," William corrected.

"Is it really there?"

"Yes, it's really there."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure? Because when I told Richard, he said it isn't real."

"Yes, Bethie, it's really there!"

Elizabeth pulled the sheets over her head. "Uncle William?"

"What now?"

"I don't like this book anymore."

William closed the book. "Likewise."

Morning was normally a busy time around the Wellington household, but first day of school was the most chaotic. Margaret rushed around in a frenzy, making sure Richard hadn't forgot anything and forced him to eat as much as she could cook before he left. The train didn't leave until eleven, but no one ever slept in past seven in the morning once Margaret had gotten up and tried to do twenty things at once.

"And you're sure you've got your clothes?" Margaret asked.

She was working Elizabeth's nerves and it was barely half past nine. "Yes."

"And your wand?"

"Yes, Gran."

"Books?"

"Yes."

"The lunch I packed? You know I don't want you having anything off the trolley."

"Mum, she's got everything," William said, as he carried Elizabeth's trunk down the stairs. "You checked it thirty minutes ago, and thirty minutes before that, and an hour before that. She hasn't taken anything out. Just calm down."

Margaret stood behind Elizabeth at the table, trying to pull her fringe away from her face, but Elizabeth resisted. "Elizabeth, sit still," she ordered as Elizabeth jerked her head away. "Stop it." She brushed her hair back, holding it in one hand as she put the brush in her mouth. She pulled Elizabeth's hair back and secured it with an Alice band, which Elizabeth promptly removed.

"I don't want to wear this." She threw it on the table and messed up her hair.

"I will not let you go to school with your hair in your face. You'll make a bad impression.""

"I don't care." Margaret attempted to fix her hair again, but Elizabeth pulled away. "Don't touch it!"

Margaret slammed the hairbrush on the table.

"Nicely handled," William said sarcastically, as he took a seat and opened his book.

"This is all your fault," Margaret accused him.

"Of course it is." He was far too preoccupied with his book to bother arguing.

"You run around with your hair constantly a mess, hanging in your eyes." She moved over to brush the hair from his eyes. He backed away from her. "Oh, fine! If you want to hide behind your hair, be my guest. I will not allow her to."

"I don't want you to touch my hair," Elizabeth said.

"She doesn't want you to touch her hair."

"I heard her! If you won't let me touch it," she said as she picked up the brush and handed it to William, "then maybe you'll let your uncle do it."

William handed the brush to Elizabeth. "Do whatever you want, kid, just get the hair out of your face before Mum smacks me for it."

Margaret ripped the book out of his hands and snapped it shut. "_An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms_," she read. "Got this off the shelves again, didn't you?"

"What's the point of living above a bookshop if I can't read the inventory?"

"It's not for you to nick, it's for customers to buy so we can continue living this comfortable life you lead."

He grabbed a pitcher of juice off the table and poured himself a glass. "Yeah, it's so comfortable you wouldn't last a day if you had to be me."

It was true that William was openly displeased about his life. He hated getting older and feeling like everything was just getting progressively worse and not better. When he turned thirty the year before, he had an all out fit after Margaret said it was a milestone in his life, considering she never expected him to quite make it that long. He got so mad at her, he turned bright red and both pewter candlesticks on the mantlepiece chipped. Last February, she didn't even wish him a happy birthday, and advised the rest of the house not to either, as she hid the fine china in the upstairs storage.

William was not only getting older, but he was getting old alone. Everyone he once knew was either dead or might as well have been, except for his good friend Claudius Billows, whom, unfortunately, William was refusing to speak to then. Margaret always said it was good he had no friends anymore, as it would surely dishearten him to see them married with families of their own. He wasn't the type to date though. He had no interest in the women Margaret tried setting him up with, and Richard had a great laugh whenever she mentioned she had found a woman he might like. They never mentioned it in front of Elizabeth, but she wasn't stupid. It didn't take a genius to piece together that William Wellington was quite simply not interested in women.

Living with Thomas and Margaret didn't help William's apparent unhappiness either. He was constantly berated by Margaret and everything he did was wrong in her eyes. He had very little privacy and Margaret would wander into his room whenever she liked, which is probably why he tried not to be around as much as possible. He said with his own place, there would be no one to complain of him being up at all hours of the night, his lack of an organisational system, his large collection of knick-knacks and other odd things for a man of his age to have, owl feathers all over the house, and most importantly, his use of magic. Margaret did not allow much magic in the house while the children were still in school and William had a terribly difficult time following this rule.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Margaret needed William to help with the children. She was getting on in age herself, and Thomas had been slowly losing touch for years. She couldn't wrangle them the way William could. Richard was now fifteen and every year since he turned thirteen he had become more and more aloof. There was simply no talking to him. For all they knew, he very well could have run an illegal drug operation with Percy Weasley via owl post for as much as Richard talked to him and as little as he talked to anyone else. Now Elizabeth, however, was only eleven, but already far more outspoken than Richard ever was. She was very adamant about what she did and did not like, what she would and would not do, and most of all, what she expected of others. It was very likely these traits came from Margaret and would only develop as she got older.

William wasn't without anything to be proud of, though. His biggest achievement was that he was an Auror. Despite what Margaret said, he was very gifted with magic, even from a young age. He knew complex spells and charms that even some of the oldest and wisest wizards didn't know. He was very capable with both non-verbal and wandless magic, and would often display this by enchanting objects to him, like a glass, without saying anything or moving, usually while reading a book. It may have seemed a bit ridiculous that a man as clumsy as William could be trained in stealth, disguise, and combat, but he was and Elizabeth thought he was fairly good at it too. He was quite able, when he wanted to, to sneak around the house without being detected. He could even slip right behind Margaret when she had her back turned without being noticed, which is how she had no idea whether he was home or not most of the time and always had to check. Elizabeth thought Margaret hated William being an Auror the most, because she thought it was an excuse for him to be an unregistered animagus. William was also known as a small golden great horned owl named Talons, that was very good at long distance flying without getting tired, but was smaller than your average great horned owl. The previous Minister for Magic saw it beneficial for the element of surprise for him to stay unregistered, and he had a good long fight with the new Minister for Magic about it when he took term not too long ago. Ultimately, he's still not registered.

Margaret walked over to William and stroked his hair for a few seconds before smacking him hard across the back of the head. "That's for your cheek." She smoothed out her skirt, which she always seemed to do after she was done fighting. "Where's Richard? You're going to miss the train if you don't get going."

"I'm coming!" Richard yelled. His door swung open and he pulled out his trunk.

Richard's bedroom was at the top of the stairs, so when he opened his door, everyone had fixed their eyes to where he stood. Their grandparents agreed he looked more like their father and Elizabeth more like their mother. It was hard to see how they were related, as Richard had the same chestnut-brown hair and eyes as Margaret, while Elizabeth shared the blonde hair and green eyes of Thomas, although William would always say she must have gotten the blonde hair from her mother, as she looked terribly like her. Even Mamie thought so too. Richard and Elizabeth didn't share any common traits except for one; both their ears came to a slight point on the side, as did William's and Nicholas's. Now, Thomas had short hair, which allowed for them to see that both his ears rounded and they were fairly certain that if Margaret ever pulled her hair back, there, in plain sight, would be two pointed ears.

Richard placed the trunk down with a loud thud and ran back into his room. He came out carrying a cage housing a sleeping Telemachus, who had already fallen off his perch and lay motionless on the bottom of the cage. He ran downstairs and placed the cage on the breakfast table in the middle of Elizabeth and William, before running back upstairs to retrieve his trunk.

"What's that?" William pointed to the little brown owl in the cage.

"This is Pudgy," said Elizabeth. "He's Richard's feather duster."

William looked curiously at Telemachus sleeping on the bottom of the cage. "Is it dead?"

"No, he always does that. He's too fat to balance on the perch, I think."

Richard dragged his trunk down the stairs. "His name is Telemachus," he said, "and he's not fat, he's just heavily feathered. Gran bought him for me for becoming a prefect. I admit he's a little odd though."

"Huh." William looked absolutely intrigued by the bird. "And this thing flies?"

Richard pulled his trunk down the last steps into the kitchen. "Well, no, not yet I mean. He's still too little."

"And you're still taking him to school?"

"Of course, he's my pet."

William glanced over at Margaret, who was trying to avoid his gaze, but failing miserably. Margaret never allowed them to have pets at all until a few years ago when she let Thomas take in a stray kneazle he had found hanging around Diagon Alley and promptly got a license to own her before Margaret could say no. Thomas named her Pharaoh, but after three months, she made him get rid of it. She complained it shed too much. That, and it had bladder control issues, so Margaret was fed up with scrubbing stains out of the rug in the parlour. Thomas was so heartbroken that she bought him Odysseus, who in turn wasn't much better behaved than Pharaoh. Besides the family owl, which Margaret claimed to keep because it was practical to have one, they were not allowed to have any more pets.

"I see." William's nose gave a little twitch.

William Wellington was a particularly strange man. He was unkept, unruly, and undeniably an instigator. He rather enjoyed pranks and jokes, especially when they annoyed his mother. He hardly ever gave a straight answer to a question, and it was evident he got pleasure out of being mysterious. Whenever he was about to do something mischievous, his nose gave a little twitch, which Elizabeth figured must have happened without his knowledge, and she always thought it looked rather odd.

William picked up his butter knife and moved it towards the cage, but Margaret snatched it out of his hand. "Go!" she yelled. "You'll make the children miss their train." She pushed him out of his chair and he picked up Elizabeth's trunk. "Her hair," Margaret complained, looking at Elizabeth. She grabbed Elizabeth as she tried to run from the table and pulled the fringe away from her face.

Margaret had always cut her fringe short until last summer when Elizabeth decided since she was ten years old, she could make up her own mind and wanted to grow it out. Margaret had grown very frustrated with her hair always hanging by the sides of her face and desperately tried to cut it again, with no success, of course. Elizabeth was quite fond of not having a fringe though ever since Thomas told her mother used to wear her hair the same way.

"William," Margaret begged.

"Pin it," he said. "What do you want me to do about it?" Margaret tried pulling Elizabeth's hair behind her ears again, but it fell right out of place. "Mum," William whinged. He put down the trunk, took Elizabeth by her arm, and knelt down to her level. He held his hand out to Margaret, who simply stared at him. He reached into the oversized pockets of her skirt, pulling out two pins, which he used to secure her fringe on either side of her head. "How hard was that?" he said to Margaret.

Margaret pushed him over. "Get going!"

William picked up Elizabeth's trunk and started off down the hall. Richard was so anxious that he had run in front and was already pulling his trunk down the stairs. "Richard, it's not a race."

"Bye Gramps." Elizabeth hugged Thomas and ran down the hall after them.

"Don't forget to be home for dinner by six. Your Aunt Catherine is coming," Margaret called.

"Don't do curfews, Mother," William replied.

"William Henry Wellington, for your sake you better be back tonight, or I will become your worst nightmare."

William was already half way down the stairs, but by the way Margaret slammed the door behind him, Elizabeth was sure she heard him say, "Already are."

Elizabeth hated the journey to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. William was normally hard to keep up with, as he loved to dodge through crowds and never walked in a straight line. Elizabeth was finding it an extra challenge with Telemachus, whom Richard had given her to carry and had woken up during the bumpy transport, flapping furiously around his cage.

"Keep up," said William, clearly enjoying himself. "We're almost there."

"I thought it's not a race, Uncle William." Richard was having just as much difficultly as Elizabeth.

William always preferred to set his own pace, as fast or as slow as he pleased, and if one couldn't keep up with him, he considered that his or her problem. He stopped his antics for no one, except one person, but even then it was a challenge for Claudius to get him to slow down to everyone else's pace. Claudius claimed there was one person, and one person only, that could ever truly get William under control, but whenever Claudius said this, William looked rather irritated and stormed out of the room.

Surprisingly, William stopped momentarily for Richard to catch up outside of King's Cross Station. He looked positively annoyed. "Ready?" he asked sarcastically.

Richard looked at him, insulted. "No," he said firmly. A sudden smile washed over him. "We've lost Elizabeth." Richard's smile grew wider as William realised Elizabeth was no longer in sight.

Richard was pretentious and uptight, but he was also a smart alec, finding a snarky comment for every situation. It was the only thing Elizabeth actually liked about him, as it reminded her of William. Unfortunately, Margaret believed that is where Richard learned it from, and it further fueled her frequent disapproval of her son. Truth was, Richard had a bitter streak to him, which Margaret was desperate to stamp out for fear he'd only get worse with time.

William was like a father figure to Elizabeth and Richard, which Margaret scoffed at the thought of. Despite not being their real father, William assumed all the responsibilities of parenthood, which Thomas recalls initially shocked Margaret, until he had his first mishap, but she still remains utterly shocked when he does something right, which isn't as rare of an occurrence as one might think.

Elizabeth and Richard appreciated him, even if he was a bit eccentric and accident prone. Their relationships with him differed greatly however. While Elizabeth loved William very dearly and showed it through her strong attachment to him, Richard was fifteen, so affection towards William and his grandparents was difficult to express. Instead of openly telling his uncle he cared, Richard played into William's games. He enjoyed joking around with him, but there were some things William didn't care to joke about. Elizabeth was one of those things.

"Bethie." William tried not to panic. "Bethie ─"

"What?"

William spun around, but still couldn't see her through the crowds. "Where are you?"

Elizabeth tugged on his jumper. He sighed out of relief when he saw her at his side. He knelt beside her and pulled her into a hug. She held up Telemachus's cage when he let go. The small owl was sitting on his perch, moving his head back and forth with every noise he heard. She looked at William, who had placed an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

She whispered into his ear. "I dropped him on the pavement and he rolled into a guard." William laughed slightly. "I'm unsure what happened in between me chasing after him and the guard being startled, but he smells worse than he did before."

William took the cage from her. "Let's just keep that between us," he whispered. "Here, Richard." He handed him the cage. "He's calmed down." He let go of Elizabeth and turned his back to her. "Get on."

"Why?"

"'Cause the train leaves in twenty minutes and we can't afford any more mishaps."

As soon as he felt her hands on his shoulders, he grabbed them, and stood up as Elizabeth wrapped her legs around him.

"But it was Pudgy's fault."

"It's not Telemachus's fault you got yourself lost," Richard defended the small bird.

William moved towards the platform again with Elizabeth hanging onto his neck and Richard beside him, arguing with her.

"Well, if he hadn't been flapping around I wouldn't have dropped his cage and fallen behind."

"You _what_?"

William interrupted, trying to move them along to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters as fast as he could. "It's okay, Richard. He's fine now. He's calm and ─"

"'Cause he's gone into shock," Elizabeth said.

"Bethie, you're not helping yourself."

"I'm telling Gran you dropped him." Richard checked Telemachus to make sure he hadn't incurred any injuries.

"It was an accident!" Elizabeth cried.

"You're an accident!"

"Eighteen minutes!" William reminded them to hurry up, traversing his way towards the barrier, and stopping short of it to put Elizabeth down.

Elizabeth looked at the solid wall. She didn't particularly want to go to Hogwarts. Richard tried to make it sound as appealing as he could, but she wasn't so sure she'd care for it as much as he did. She was terrified to be sorted and forced to share a room with other girls. What if she couldn't stand any of them?

She looked pleadingly at William. "I don't want to go to school. What if I turn out like you?"

"You'll demolish Hogwarts by your third year," Richard retorted.

Elizabeth sneered at him. She wasn't worried about classes, teachers, or rule breaking. She was worried about what house she would end up in and he knew that. Her grandmother had spent all summer telling Madam Malkin she'd be a Ravenclaw. "She is a very clever child," she had said and it was the only thing about Elizabeth that Margaret ever boasted about. When she was fitted for robes, it was all the two discussed, besides Richard becoming prefect, which was still Ravenclaw related and the conversation looped back around to Elizabeth. At least in Ravenclaw she would have Richard to bother, but anywhere else she would be on her own for the first time in her life.

"Breaking a few windows is hardly 'demolishing Hogwarts,'" said William. "I've done worse at home."

Elizabeth thought her uncle the most curious of characters. He acted as if he was permanently sixteen. He seemed to say whatever popped into his head, without giving the slightest thought to how immature it made him look. He was proud of the trouble he caused and the inappropriate things he had done. He did always like to do things on his own terms though, and what he deemed inappropriate clearly differed from most people.

"Like burning the settee?"

William had an awful habit of doing unintentional magic as a child, which he honed into being completely intentional as an adult. One of his favourites was breaking glass and he did it whenever he was angry. He used to make whole windows and mirrors shatter in an instant. Mostly now, he just cracked the dinnerware, especially drinking glasses, whether being used or stored. He wasn't particular about what he broke when he was being hot. Another talent of his involved fire, which is why Margaret no longer allowed the fireplaces to be lit. One night when William was still in school, Margaret angered him so much, the fire exploded from the fireplace, scorching the settee, burning his right arm, and leaving the whole west end of the parlour covered in ash. She never forgave him for it and left the mark untouched as a reminder, both not to use to the fireplace, and that William has no self-control.

William rubbed his right arm. "This is not an inquisition, Richard. Now Beth, there's nothing to be afraid of. You'll get sorted where you get sorted and you'll grow to love it."

"Unless she's a Slytherin."

William grabbed Richard by the collar of his shirt. "May I have a word with you?" He dragged Richard away before he could say anything. Elizabeth could still hear their conversation. William slipped a Galleon into Richard's hand. "That's for the owl." He proceeded to hand Richard another. "For not telling Mum about this." And then a couple of Sickles. "Don't abandon her and please wait until I'm out of sight to insult her." William handed over one last handful of Knuts with a note. He didn't say anything, just nodded. "Alright, Bethie." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to stay with Richard."

"Where're you going?" Elizabeth was irate that for the past four years he saw Richard off every start of term, but he was going to miss seeing her off on her first day.

"I've got someone to see."

"Are you going to see Mamie?"

"I'm not going to see Mamie."

"Is Gran going to be mad at you?"

"When isn't she mad at me?"

It was true. Margaret looked for any reason to yell at William. Once Richard had broken a vase in the parlour when William wasn't home. Margaret still blamed it on him, then turned to calling him a bad influence when Richard confessed he had done it. It was such a habit of hers to blame everything on him, that whenever she heard a loud noise around the house, she immediately accused him, whether he was there or not. Furthermore, she never apologised to him when she was wrong. She simply came up with something new to yell at him for. Elizabeth firmly believed for the majority of her life that Margaret couldn't stand William and wished he would just disappear, until he got caught flying in a thunderstorm and nearly drown falling into a lake. She babied him for an entire week until he she caught him hiding Chocolate Frogs under the armchair. She never did allow any of them to have sweets, especially William.

"Just stay with Richard," he said, "and keep yourself out of trouble."

Elizabeth thought it ironic that William Wellington, the man who lived to annoy his mother by disobeying everything she ever told him, was telling _her_ to keep out of trouble.

"Are you going to visit?"

"I don't think so. Professor McGonagall would be suspicious to see Talons around again."

Richard had mentioned Professor McGonagall. She was the Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor house. He had described her much like their own grandmother: strict and best to avoid.

"She never did care much for me. I wasn't the best behaved student in my days. One time I remember I was in her office so much I told her to just move my bed in there. She wasn't amused. By my sixth year, she started yelling at me for things she just thought I might do, not that I actually did yet. I spent a lot of hours in detention with that woman. Got sent to Dumbledore's office quite often too. Come to think of it, I can't remember a time when I wasn't in trouble or doing something that would get me in trouble later."

"You're a real role model, Uncle William," Richard said sarcastically.

William smirked. "Watch it, Richard, I used to torment kids like you."

Indeed William had. Elizabeth remembered very well her grandmother bringing up a Hufflepuff boy quite often named Martin Sellerby, that William and his friends used to play pranks on all the time during school. Margaret never found what they did to him funny, but every time she mentioned something the school had informed her of, the most curious look washed over William; a mix of pleasant recollection, smugness, and a hint of mischief flashing in his eyes.

"She doesn't have to know," said Elizabeth.

"Trust me, I can't. My very last day she told me I was a menace and she never wanted to see me or that rowdy little owl of mine ever again."

"Sounds like Gran."

"If I went back there, she'd kill me," William said casually.

"And so would Mr. Filch," Richard added.

"You tell that vindictive little Squib he still has seven years worth of confiscated items, mind you, most of which he simply came into possession of when he took over, and I would like them back, including a map he snatched from me, and a flying carpet, which is now illegal, but wasn't when he took it, so I think I'm entitled to it back."

"I'll try to remember to mention it the next time he brings up the time you gave him a tail." Richard appeared highly amused at the thought of that.

There was that look again. "I'd forgotten about that." William was smiling broadly. "Thank you, Richard."

"Can I give Richard a tail?" Elizabeth asked.

"Something tells me Gran wouldn't appreciate that." He stood up. "Now who's first? Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth shook her head.

"What a baby," Richard said, pushing his cart with Telemachus on top into position. He started running at the barrier.

"Hey!" William yelled. "You owe me half those sickles back for that!"

Richard ran right through the wall, Telemachus screeching like a banshee the entire time.

"You're up," William said to Elizabeth, nodding towards the barrier.

"I don't think so."

William sighed. "Okay." He knelt down next to her. "On my first day, I didn't want to go either, so Dad and Nick were at the barrier with me and Dad said he knew I'd be fine and I'd be home for the holidays. The school year would be over before I knew it and I wouldn't want to come home and I felt better." Elizabeth shook her head. "No? Okay, well your dad told me that he'd be right there with me looking out for me all year and I'd make a lot of friends and I'd love it." Elizabeth shook her head again. "Still no? Well, then Dad hugged me and threw me through the barrier so either you go willingly or I force you." Elizabeth took her cart. "There you go." William stood up as she turned it around. "We've done this before, it's no different this time."

"Uncle William, I know!"

"Oh, okay, fine."

Elizabeth took off running and closed her eyes right before she hit the wall. When she opened them she was looking right at the Hogwarts Express. Richard was there waiting for her.

"Took long enough," he said. "Here." Richard handed her some of the money she saw William give him. "For the trolley."

"But Gran ─"

"Since when do you listen to what Gran says?"

She thought that he had a point. Elizabeth hardly ever obeyed Margaret and certainly never did when she wasn't around, but it was terribly out of character for Richard to partake in rule breaking. He may have been a smart alec, but he didn't step out of line.

"When don't you?"

"Elizabeth Ann, do you really think you're the only one Uncle William ever teaches his tricks to?"

She had to conclude that while it wasn't the Richard she knew at home, it was Richard. He was the only one to ever call her by her first and middle name as if it were one.

"There's Mrs. Weasley." Richard pointed out a plump ginger haired woman holding the hand of a small ginger haired girl.

Elizabeth didn't like Mrs. Weasley. Actually she did; she never cared for her sons much though. Richard was good friends with Percy, as they were both overly self-aggrandising and stiff. William knew Mr. Weasley from the Ministry, having been cornered several times once he had caught wind that William frequented the Muggle world. Mr. Weasley did have a not so secret, and not so healthy, obsession with Muggles. He wanted to know everything he could about them, and he collected electric plugs for some odd reason. He also liked batteries and William had explained that it probably wasn't safe to collect both. Elizabeth thought of all the Muggle things to collect he would have picked something better than plugs and batteries. William found him to be just genuinely curious and a not a threat in any way, so he would tell Mr. Weasley all he wanted to know and even took to bringing him Muggle objects occasionally. He had developed a strange relationship with him, which Elizabeth concluded that, by William's logic, was a normal friendship. He had a daughter a year younger than Elizabeth and a son her age. Since Richard befriended Percy, Elizabeth found herself often having to be nice to the Weasley boys, although she particularly disliked them most of the time. She got along quite fine with Ginny, but found it rather difficult to deal with Ron. There was rarely a time they agreed on anything, but William and Mrs. Weasley still insisted it was good idea for them to be friends, although they mustn't had realized that they weren't. They merely tolerated each other.

"So?" said Elizabeth, not wanting to be stuck with Ron on the train. "You know I don't like him, Richard. He's thick."

"What about the twins?"

"Not since they got me to climb that tree and I couldn't get down."

"Then put up with the little Malfoy brat for all I care. You're no longer my responsibility."

Elizabeth was a pure-blood witch, which often meant she had to put up with other pure-blood families because of Margaret's connections to them. One of which was the Malfoys, who were particularly unpleasant people and Elizabeth always thought Mr. Malfoy was only capable of one facial expression: disgust. Mrs. Malfoy wasn't much better either, but Margaret rarely talked to her, as she was surely incapable of holding a conversation. They had one son, who was a true nightmare, and up until Elizabeth had stabbed him at a dinner party with a fork, he was quite abrasive to her. He was much more pleasant now that he was painfully aware she was not above causing him physical pain, but that still didn't mean she liked him. Elizabeth let out a low growl in Richard's direction, who bared his teeth back at her and took off down the platform. She looked over again at Mrs. Weasley, who was rubbing something off Ron's nose. She decided she would much rather deal with any of the Weasley boys than have to sit the whole train ride with Draco Malfoy.

Elizabeth walked up to the ginger haired woman. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley," she said. "Ginny."

"Hello, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. She always was a rather cheerful woman. She glanced around. "Where"s your uncle? Did he not come with you?"

"No, he said he had somewhere to be."

"Oh well. Arthur had another question for him about Muggles. Did you come alone? Where's your brother?"

"There's Richard," said Ginny, pointing to Richard far down the platform talking to another ginger haired boy.

"And there"s Percy."

"Where's Percy?" said Mrs. Weasley.

"He's coming now," said George. He placed his hands on Elizabeth's shoulders, which caused her to jump in surprise.

Fred and George laughed.

Percy came striding into sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes. Richard was right behind him, already changed too. Both their robes had shiny sliver badges with the letter P on them.

"And your lovely brother seems to be escorting him." Fred pinched Elizabeth's cheek.

She slapped his hand away. "I'll curse you, Fred Weasley."

"Elizabeth Ann, what did Uncle William just tell you?" Richard strolled up to the group with Percy.

"I should have known it wouldn't take you long to find Percy."

"Knock off your cheek."

"We're up front with the other prefects," Percy said to Mrs. Weasley. "They've got two compartments to themselves —"

"Oh, are you a _prefect_, Percy?" said Fred, with a great air of surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea."

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said George. "Once ─"

"Or twice ─"

"A minute ─"

"All summer ─"

"Oh, shut it," said Percy the Prefect.

"Don't worry," whispered Elizabeth to the twins, "Richard was the same way."

"I swear, Elizabeth Ann —" Richard started, but stopped himself. "You stay out of trouble, hear me."

He left with Percy after saying goodbye to Mrs. Weasley. Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at him as he left.

"We seem to be in the same boat," said the twins.

"There is no such _we_," Elizabeth said. "You two are a _we_, I am me, us three are you two and me, but there is no _we_."

"Lighten up, Elizabeth," said George.

"You're still not mad about the tree?" asked Fred.

"I think she is."

"We said sorry."

"You laughed at me!"

"It was pretty funny," said the twins laughing at their rhymes.

Mrs. Weasley turned to them. "Now, you two ─ this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've ─ you've blown up a toilet or ─"

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mum."

"It's not funny. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us."

"Shut it," said Ron. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

"Hey, Mum, guess who we met on the train?"

"Who?"

"_Harry Potter!_"

"You did not!" said Elizabeth, still mad about the tree.

* * *

**A/N: **Plot points and quotes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter Six, The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, pages 95 to 98.

I added a raid on the Ministry to the timeline. The Minister from '68 to '80 was unknown so I took advantage of that and added an original character, pushing Millicent Bagnold's time back by six years so she would have been in office from '74 to '90, not from '80 to '90.

I have also just realised that Millicent Bagnold, Minister for Magic from 1980 to 1990, is an allusion to Margaret Thatcher, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom from 1979 to 1990. Where have I been all these years that I didn't notice that until fifteen years later?


	4. Chapter Three

The train started moving and the four of them made their way down the corridors of the train. Fred and George were talking about going to see something their friend had. Elizabeth and Ron were just looking for anywhere to sit. The twins had rushed off further down the train when Ron stopped outside a compartment.

"How about here?" Ron asked, trying to be civil to Elizabeth. "He looks like he could use some company."

The boy inside the compartment had black hair and round glasses. Elizabeth recognised immediately who he was from the encounter at the bookshop.

"No, Ron," she said. "I think we should leave him alone."

Elizabeth had read several of the books in the bookshop by her age, including history books. Tucked away amongst the thousands of books in Flourish & Blotts, one could find Harry's name scribbled across the pages of _The Rise and Fall of the Darks Arts_. Everyone in the wizarding world knew Harry as the Boy Who Lived; the one He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could not kill. Ron was unaware who the boy in the compartment was, but Elizabeth knew all too well. She had only read about him dozens of times. He was somewhat of a fictional hero in her mind, much like the characters her grandfather read of in Muggle literature. Against all odds, he accomplished an incredible feat, and then vanished. Most people didn't know what happened to him after that fateful night. Having an image of a live person sitting there in the compartment to attach to the stories and the books was quite a surreal experience.

"But there's no where else to sit," Ron complained.

"There's gotta be."

"Then you can go find somewhere else. I'm sitting here." Ron slid the compartment door open and he went in. Elizabeth reluctantly followed him. "Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head and Ron and Elizabeth sat down. She gave Ron a dirty look before making herself comfortable and pulled out the book _An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms_. She had snatched it from her grandmother this morning while she was busy yelling at William.

Elizabeth noticed Ron glance at Harry and then quickly out the window, pretending he hadn't looked. She was about to scold him, but stopped herself. She didn't want Harry to know they knew who he was. She figured it must have been an awful lot of pressure to be him and she didn't want to add to it.

"Hey, Ron." The twins were back. "Listen, we're going down to the middle of the train ─ Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

Ron was terrified of spiders. She shared this fear and she always remembered that she could just thank Richard for giving her a book on acromantulas for that. Something about giant man eating anythings didn't go over well with Elizabeth, and ever since then she was terrified of the tiniest spider. She never told Ron though, because she refused to have anything in common with him.

"Harry," said George, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother."

"I don't suppose Miss Poor Sport over here bothered to introduce herself," said Fred. "She's Elizabeth Wellington."

They were clearly just as hung up about the tree as she was. Over the holiday, she found herself often escorting Richard when he went to visit Percy, never of her own accord, of course. She had always spent the time with Ginny, but one day this past holiday, somehow the twins had gotten hold of her and convinced her to climb the tallest tree they could find. It wasn't so much as they convinced her as they tossed her shoes up there, and she knew if she went home shoeless, her grandmother would kill her. So she climbed the tree to retrieve them, only to find that once she had gotten herself up, she couldn't get herself down. She had called for help, but the twins just left her. Eventually, Mr. Weasley had to stand below the tree and catch her as she jumped. Mrs. Weasley was so mad at Fred and George that Richard had told her Percy informed him that for the rest of the week they walked a little funny.

"Don't you two have a tarantula to play with?" Elizabeth hinted for them to leave.

"What have you got there?" George tapped the book.

"_An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms_," read Fred. "Sounds boring."

"I didn't know you could read, Fred," Elizabeth said, still reading the book.

Fred and George were quiet.

"All right, see you later then," said George.

The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out. Elizabeth smacked his arm. "What?" Ron rubbed his arm. "I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes."

"No, I am," said Harry.

"Well, there you go, Ron," said Elizabeth. "It's not a joke. Leave him be."

"Have you really got ─ you know..." Ron pointed at Harry's forehead.

"Ron, don't point," Elizabeth said without looking up from her book.

Harry pulled back his fringe to show his lightning scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-who..."

"Ron!" Elizabeth slammed her book closed and shot a vicious glare in Ron's direction. "Leave him alone about it." Elizabeth opened her book again. There was an awkward silence in the compartment.

"So do you remember it?" Ron asked.

Elizabeth was furious. "What did I just tell you?"

"Well ─ I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else," Harry said to Ron.

"Wow." Ron sounded amazed.

She turned the page of her book. "Please, don't encourage him, Harry."

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, seeming to find Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.

"Er ─ yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"What about your family?" Harry asked Elizabeth.

She was becoming very annoyed with the conversation in this compartment. "Hmm," she said, tearing herself away from the book. "Oh, yes, they are. My family's been attending Hogwarts since its founding."

"Oh, here we go." Ron sighed. "The prestigious and ancient house of Wellington. Well, let me tell you, no one can be bothered with your family's history."

"Fine then, I won't say another word."

"Is that a long time?" said Harry. "Since Hogwarts was founded, I mean."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said with an attitude similar to Richard's. "I'm not allowed to answer any questions. If it doesn't involve Ron, it bores him and we can't have that."

"Be quiet," said Ron.

They were always bickering with each other, but only afterwards did Elizabeth realise what an awkward situation it must have been for Harry to sit there with them going at it as usual.

The train moved on. Ron had asked Harry about living with Muggles, and Harry had asked Ron about his brothers. They wound up talking about how neither of them could afford anything, that is until Harry was told he was a wizard.

Elizabeth was deep in her book. With each charm she read about, she wondered if it was what William was looking for and why he'd use it. She was in the middle of reading about a charm that William had circled when Ron gasped. She looked at him.

"What?" said Harry.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" Ron sounded both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people ─"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Fear of a name is ridiculous, Ron."

William had always told Richard and her that the people running around Diagon Alley in hushed whispers about You-Know-Who were absolutely ridiculous. The name itself was nothing to fear. He wasn't going to pop out from around the corner like a fairy tale monster if they said it aloud. He had gotten them to say it a few times in front of Margaret, who would simply turn her head slowly towards them and raise her eyebrows. They were surprised not to be in trouble, but she did warn them that if they said it around their grandfather, she would have to punish them.

They were all quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

Harry leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink and he muttered that he had brought sandwiches. This caught Elizabeth's attention. She loved Mrs. Weasley's meals. Her own grandmother had stuffed them full of things like steamed cabbage and raw broccoli. Mrs. Weasley's cooking was far different. It actually had a taste.

Ron and Elizabeth stared as Harry brought some of everything off the trolley back into the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry are you?" Ron asked.

"Starving," said Harry.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled on of them apart. "She always forgets I don't like corned beef," he said to Elizabeth.

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pastry. "Go on ─"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Not much better than my gran," Elizabeth added.

"Packed your lunch again?" Ron asked.

Elizabeth pulled out a box and opened it. "She cut the crust off my sandwich again." She lifted the corner of the bread. "Peanut butter." She gagged and closed the box, putting it away.

Elizabeth was always complaining of Margaret's lunches, as they always consisted of a cold sandwich with the crust cut off, a red apple, and a glass of milk. Elizabeth never knew who was supposed to eat these lunches, as Richard never ate anything cold, Elizabeth and William liked the crust, all of them preferred green apples, and Thomas snuck everyone various fruit juices when Margaret wasn't looking. Apple juice happened to be Thomas's favourite, but Margaret insisted milk was healthier. Elizabeth was never fond of eating anything that came from a cow though.

"Go on, have a pastry," said Harry. Ron took it from him. Of course he would. He would never pass up food, especially junk food. "Here." Harry held out another pastry for Elizabeth.

"No, thank you, I'm not hungry."

"You should eat something," said Ron.

"I like the crust and I hate peanut butter and Gran doesn't allow sweets."

"Wow, that book must be dead interesting," said Harry, noticing Elizabeth had barely stopped reading since entering the compartment.

"Well —" Elizabeth started.

"No, she just reads anything," said Ron, taking a bite of the pastry Harry gave him.

Elizabeth found it ever so annoying when Ron brushed off everything she did. "Thanks, Ron."

"She lives above a bookshop," Ron told Harry. "In Diagon Alley. Flourish and Blotts. Dead boring if you ask me."

"Hey, I was there! I got my schoolbooks there."

"That's where everyone gets their schoolbooks," Elizabeth explained. "Only place that carries the entire Hogwarts required reading for each year."

"There was this odd old man that helped me and Hagrid."

Elizabeth looked up over her book. "That's my grandfather."

"Oh." Harry looked embarrassed.

Ron laughed, nearly choking on the pastry.

"Shut it," Elizabeth snapped.

The train moved on still. Ron and Harry were busy eating their way through all the pastries, cakes, and candies. Ron had to explain to Harry what Chocolate Frogs are and that when it comes to Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, they really do mean every flavour. The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The fields were gone and woods took their place. A round-faced boy had come into their compartment. The boy had lost his toad and seemed rather broken up about it. Ron had no sympathy for him.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron.

"He lost his pet, Ron." Elizabeth couldn't believe his insensitivity. "That's why he's so bothered. You know some people actually like their pets. Theirs aren't as useless as Scabbers."

"You lay off him!"

"Look at him." She motioned to the rat on Ron's lap. "He could die and you wouldn't know the difference. It'd be an improvement actually."

Elizabeth always hated Scabbers. He was old, he smelled like he had been dead for years, and he was missing a toe. He always seemed to be watching her with his beady little eyes and she just wanted to throw a sheet over him so she didn't have to see it.

"Leave him alone! He's fine!"

"You don't even like him! Tried to turn him yellow, you did."

"To make him more interesting! But the spell didn't work," Ron said to Harry. "I could show you, if you like..."

"Say no," Elizabeth told Harry. "It's not a real spell anyway."

"How do you know?" Ron sounded offended.

"Because Richard said so, genius. Fred and George tricked you again."

"Be quiet and let me show him."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and the unicorn's hair was poking out.

"That thing is so old, Ron, you could very well hurt yourself trying anything with it."

"I told you to be quiet."

He had just raised his wand when they were interrupted again. The boy that lost his toad was back with a girl already dressed in her Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic?"

"No, he is not," said Elizabeth firmly.

"Yes, I am," said Ron.

"Fine, count me out." Elizabeth went through her trunk.

"What are you doing now?"

"Looking for my robes. If you're going to be stupid, I want no part of it." She pulled out her robes and closed the trunk. She stood up. "I'm going to change." She slid the compartment door behind her with force to let Ron know she didn't approve of his actions one bit.

She walked down the corridors, pushing her way through rowdy people, trying to find somewhere to change. She managed to, after passing several young students running around, a few couples snogging, and the Weasley Twins trying to get a frightened looking second year to eat another one of their joke sweets. She could only imagine what this one did to the poor fellow who was foolish enough to consume it.

"What are you two doing?" she asked.

"Business," said Fred.

Elizabeth looked at the sweet. "Does this one cause uncontrollable vomiting as well?"

Fred and George had a knack for trouble and they also had a knack for creating terrible jokes. One from the previous holiday was a sweet that caused whoever consumed it to feel like they were puking out their intestines. It was meant just to be a way to play sick, only causing light vomiting for ten to twenty minutes after ingesting, but they had made it too strong and poor Percy spent the entire day hurling.

"Elizabeth, you're scaring away our customers," said George.

"Or does it just cause them to go into a coma?"

Another one of their tricks caused fainting, which could only be reversed by eating another sweet, but since the person was already passed out, Elizabeth failed to see how they could take the other sweet. Their jokes needing some work still.

"Elizabeth! To think ─"

"We trusted you ─"

"And this is how you repay us."

"You two are just lucky I don't go tell Percy what've you been up to."

Fred and George looked at each other. "Percy!" they said.

They rushed off towards the front of the train. Elizabeth knew whatever they were trying to make that second year eat was now going to wind up forcibly shoved down Percy's throat.

"You're welcome!" she called after them.

She had a troublesome time trying to dress with the train moving. She fell over a few times, but she managed to get dressed without any major injuries. She made her way back through the throngs of people, whom she wanted to yell at to get back to their compartments and stay there. Upon approaching the compartment, she saw the bossy girl leave, taking the toadless boy with her. Ron just stared at her as Elizabeth came back in.

"If anything happens to Percy, Fred and George did it," she said. Both Ron and Harry stared curiously at her as she took a seat. "What did I miss?"

"Well, lucky you missed that obnoxious girl," said Ron. "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it."

"That bad?"

Ron nodded.

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not."

Harry looked at Elizabeth.

"My brother Richard's in Ravenclaw," she said. "Fifth year like Percy. My father and grandparents were too. Actually, all the Wellingtons were ─"

"Except your uncle," mumbled Ron under his breath.

"No one asked you, Ron."

"What house was your uncle in?" asked Harry, who had heard plenty about Ron's family and was interested in hearing about Elizabeth's.

"Gryffindor," Ron said smugly.

"You know that's where your family is, Ron." Ron fell silent. "Wouldn't be surprised if you're a Hufflepuff."

"Wouldn't be surprised if you're a Slytherin."

Elizabeth gasped. Ron had said some terrible things to her before, but that was down right awful.

"What's so wrong with Slytherin?" Harry asked.

Elizabeth picked up her book again. "They're slimy little low lives, that's what's wrong with Slytherin."

"It's where You-Know-Who was when he went to Hogwarts," Ron whispered. "You don't want to end up there."

"Ron, stop worrying him. You won't end up a Slytherin, Harry, although Ron over here might."

"No one asked your opinion!"

Elizabeth went back to her book after giving Ron a good kick in his shin. She let the boys crack on with their conversation. She wanted no part in it. She heard Harry ask Ron about what Bill and Charlie did and she was glad she wasn't being questioned anymore.

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

"Oh, no," Elizabeth muttered to herself.

"Er ─ I don't know any," Harry confessed.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded.

"Oh, Harry, why?" Elizabeth said in anguish. "Why would you say that? You've just doomed us both."

She would rather have been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse than listen to Ron talk about Quidditch. Once he started, he never stopped.

"You hush," said Ron. "Oh, wait Harry, it's the best game in the world ─"

And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and broomsticks he'd like to buy if he had the money.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" said Elizabeth to Ron. "All you have to do is ask nicely for your birthday."

"And how many times do I have to tell _you_? I don't want you to buy me a broom. You'd get it wrong anyway."

"How can I?" Elizabeth asked. "You only mention it twenty times daily."

"That's not funny!"

The compartment door slid open again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or the bossy girl he was with this time. Three boys entered and Elizabeth immediately recognised the middle one.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry.

Elizabeth could tell he was uncomfortable. She felt so bad for him. The way people were treating him was completely unacceptable. He wasn't some exhibit in a zoo that people like Draco Malfoy could come gawk at. He seemed startled by the whole experience so far. It was exactly what she was afraid would happen.

Draco was busy introducing his cronies. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle: two more people Elizabeth couldn't stand. She had never heard them speak. She wondered if they even could. Draco was introducing himself when she heard Ron snigger.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Draco said to Ron. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have ginger hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

She jumped up. "Shove off, Draco."

"Elizabeth." He looked her over. "Always a pleasure." She noticed his hands.

She smirked. "I see that fork wound hasn't healed yet."

"Look at you, defending blood traitors. I expected better of you."

He annoyed Elizabeth to her breaking point. He had all the same ideas as his obnoxious parents. He was rude and barely tolerable. She always tried to remember that he wasn't the worst person she had met, but he wound up pushing her too far most of the time. He did seem to hold his tongue a lot more than he used to ever since that night she acquainted him with her dinner fork.

"What do you want, Draco?"

"Just came to make sure Potter didn't go making friends with the wrong sort."

Elizabeth wished she had the strength to physically throw Malfoy and his goons from the train, or at least had her wand ready. She was becoming very angry. The Weasleys were some of the kindest people she had ever met, despite the fact that she got along with none of their sons. She wasn't going to let Draco insult them.

"Don't worry, as long as he stays away from you, he won't. Now, if you'll be so kind as to leave, we'd greatly appreciate it."

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys?" said Malfoy, his cronies backing him up.

"I'm not afraid of you, Draco," said Elizabeth, honestly. "And I'm not afraid of your trained gorillas either."

A pink tinge appeared in Malfoy's pale cheeks. He turned back to Harry.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "You don't want to fall in with the likes of these two," he looked Elizabeth and Ron up and down, "Muggle lovers."

That was it. She was going to knock his teeth out. However, Ron and Harry both stood up to face Malfoy.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Gonna fight us, are you?" said Malfoy

Elizabeth had silently been searching her trunk for her wand. Malfoy and his bodyguards hadn't seen her thanks to Harry and Ron standing in front of her. She finally found her wand and pushed in front of the boys to face Malfoy.

"No, they're not going to do anything," said Elizabeth. "You'd just set your goons on them and that wouldn't be a fair fight at all, now would it?"

"Who cares about fair?"

"I do." Elizabeth pointed her wand at him.

But before she could utter one spell, Goyle let out a loud yelp. Scabbers had sunk him teeth into Goyle's finger and refused to let go. Crabbe and Malfoy backed off as Goyle swung Scabbers around, howling, until Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window. All three of them disappeared at once, probably because they heard footsteps, because not a minute after they left, the girl from before was back.

"What has been going on?" she said, looking at Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," said Ron to Harry and Elizabeth.

"Serves him right," said Elizabeth.

"How can you say that? He just protected you."

"He bit someone, Ron. It's not the first time he's done it. Poor boy should get tested for rabies now." Elizabeth sat back down and took her book out again.

"No," said Ron. Elizabeth's attention shot back to him holding Scabbers by the tail. "I don't believe it."

"What?" said Elizabeth. "That he's a vile, disgusting vermin. Everyone knows that."

"No, he's not knocked out, he's gone back to sleep."

And so he had.

Elizabeth attempted to go back to reading again, but was interrupted by the feeling she was being watched. She looked up to see the girl staring at her.

"May I help you?" Elizabeth said, annoyed.

"I didn't catch your name before," said the girl. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Elizabeth Wellington." And with that she hid behind her book. She didn't feel much like talking, especially not to Hermione Granger.

"What are you reading?" Hermione asked, sitting next to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked over at her. "Is there a reason you came in here?"

"Alright ─ I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly," said Hermione in a sniffy voice.

"Oh, no, you don't say. Did you hear that, boys? Children acting childishly. Whatever is wrong with them?"

Elizabeth may not have noticed, but her grandparents sure did, that underneath that sweet eleven year old girl exterior was a bitter streak very similar to Richard's.

Ron and Elizabeth laughed, but Harry didn't. Elizabeth saw him smile and knew he was just holding in his laughter to be polite.

"Fine," said Hermione. "I'll leave." She turned to Harry and Ron. "You two better put your robes on. I've just been up front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there." She turned to leave, but suddenly directed her attention to Ron. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron and Elizabeth glared at her as she left.

"And you've got a stick up your bum, by the way, did you know?" said Elizabeth, mocking Hermione. She looked over to Harry. He was staring out the window. "You okay there, Harry? You've been awfully quiet."

"Yeah, I'm okay," said Harry.

She just felt downright awful. For children in the wizarding world, going to school for the first time was an exciting, somewhat nervous experience, but it was mostly one of great joy. Elizabeth couldn't have imagined what it must have been like for Harry. Normal children were supposed to look forward to attending Hogwarts. Harry was not normal though.

* * *

**A/N: **Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter Six, The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, pages 98 to 110.


	5. Chapter Four

The train slowed down and finally came to a halt. People pushed their way toward the door and out onto a tiny, dark platform. Hermione had rejoined them and Elizabeth was hoping they would lose her in the crowd, but they had no such luck. She stuck close to Elizabeth's side, although Elizabeth was too busy searching for any sign of Richard to notice Hermione's incessant chattering concerning what she had read about Hogwarts over the summer. A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and Elizabeth heard Hagrid's voice, quieting Hermione.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! C'mon, follow me ─ any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Nobody spoke as they followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path surrounded by thick trees that opened onto the edge of the Black Lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side was a castle with many turrets and towers. Elizabeth had heard all about Hogwarts from Richard before, but she never imagined it to be so grand. She was sure one could get lost for days in there, both on accident and on purpose.

"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting on the water by the shore.

Elizabeth quickly followed Harry and Ron into their boat, hoping she wouldn't be joined by Hermione this time, as she had no interest in becoming her friend. Elizabeth certainly hoped she would not be sorted into the same house and be forced to be roommates with the obnoxious girl.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then ─ FORWARD!"

The fleet of boats glided across the lake. Everyone was silent, staring at the castle overhead, and Elizabeth was happy that even Hermione seemed amazed enough with the sight to be quiet. The boats carried them into a wide opening and along a dark tunnel, until they reached a harbour where they clambered out onto the rocks. Hagrid was checking boats as people climbed out. Elizabeth noticed the toadless boy Hermione had been with earlier standing by himself on the rocks. He seemed to have the same apprehensive look on his face when he came to their compartment on the train. He looked rather lost and meek, she thought. Elizabeth figured he was the kind of boy to be in Hufflepuff based on what Richard had described over the summer. Margaret had promptly scolded him for teasing the House. She probably appreciated the jokes none, considering her sister was sorted there.

She saw Hagrid walk over to him and hand him a toad from his pocket.

"Trevor!" cried Neville, blissfully, taking the toad in his hands.

They clambered up a passageway, coming out onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. Hermione was still with them and Elizabeth stayed close to Ron, not wishing to get separated, even if she didn't like him very much. She would rather be with him than on her own at though. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid knocked three times on the castle door. The door swung open, which startled Elizabeth a little. A tall black-haired witch stood there. Richard had told Elizabeth about all the professors and she knew this had to be Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher. She was there when William went to school as well, and both Richard and William had mentioned it was best to avoid as her as she was just as strict, if not more strict, than Gran.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," said Professor McGonagall.

They followed her across the entrance hall and she showed the first years into a small, empty chamber, which they quickly crowded into.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall greeted them.

Elizabeth didn't feel very welcome thus far. She found the castle rather large and intimidating. She knew if she needed help getting around, she could surely ask Richard and he'd reluctantly help her, but she was frightened to be in such an enormous place on her own for most of the time. She had never spent a night away from home before and now she felt like she was suddenly shoved out by herself to sink or swim.

Professor McGonagall had an odd familiarity to her. There was something about her that was comforting because she appeared stiff like her Elizabeth's grandmother, but at the same time, that very stiffness that reminded her of Margaret made her a tiny bit terrified of the woman as well. She knew she certainly could not cross this professor like she crossed Margaret and expect to get away with it.

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses."

Elizabeth was not looking forward to that part. She had been having doubts all summer about where she would be placed and her nerves were now on end as the moment was imminent. She was fearful of being sorted in any house other than Ravenclaw. Even though she fought with Richard on a near constant basis, she felt that being sorted into Ravenclaw, at least he would be there if she needed him, and she felt like she would have been calmer at that moment if he was there with her.

"The Sorting is very important because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

Professor McGonagall was explaining the houses to the rest of the students and how house points worked, but Elizabeth has stopped listening. She was panicking on the inside about the ceremony and what would happen if she wasn't in Ravenclaw like she expected to be. She had no desire to follow in the footsteps of her eccentric uncle by being sorted into Gryffindor, or worse. What Ron said on the train was still floating around her mind. She hadn't given it serious consideration before, but in her anxious state, she began to wonder what if she was sorted into Slytherin?

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly," said Professor McGonagall before exiting the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Harry looked terrified and Elizabeth put aside her own fears for a moment to ease his worries. She put on a brave face and smacked Ron across his chest.

"Ow!"

"Stop scaring him!" she scolded. In a way, she felt like it was payback for scaring her earlier as well. "Don't worry," she said to Harry. "Richard said all they do is place a hat on your head. It doesn't hurt at all." She tried to give him her best reassuring smile so he didn't know she was just as afraid as he was. "He told me it's really easy and over really quickly."

Although she was still on edge, she was sure she had calmed him down at least a little until she heard people behind them screamed. Several ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. They glided across the room talking to each other, not noticing the first years, and Elizabeth could tell which students lived in the wizarding world and which ones were from the Muggle world based on who paid any mind to the ghosts. Harry looked positively frightened again and seemed surprised that Ron had ignored them as if they weren't even there.

"Move along now," said Professor McGonagall once she returned to the chamber. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

She felt just as petrified as Harry with those words. She could not shake all the doubts about the sorting that she had, from her grandmother and Madam Malkin's hushed conversations in Diagon Alley, to Ron's insensitive remark on the train ride. She wanted to convince herself she was just overreacting to first day jitters, but so far it wasn't working.

"Now, form a line and follow me," Professor McGongall instructed.

Hermione was back behind Elizabeth in line and she did her best to ignore as her as they walked out of the chamber. They crossed through the hall they came through and reached a pair of double doors leading to the Great Hall. They proceeded in line into the giant room with four tables in a row and one table at the very back occupied by the staff. Hermione had begun whispering to Elizabeth about how she had read in _Hogwarts: A History_ that they enchant the ceiling to look like the sky outside. Of course, Elizabeth knew this already without Hermione telling her, but she found it just as impressive as the Muggle-born. She was so wrapped up in watching the fake night sky that she was only half listening to the Sorting Hat's song. She was snapped out of her daze by the sound of applause as the hat finished singing.

"So you were right," Ron whispered to Elizabeth. "We've just got to try on the hat."

"Of course, Ron. When am I ever not right?"

"You're wrong plenty!" Ron hissed, but Elizabeth hushed him.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," said Professor McGonagall. "Abbott, Hannah!"

Elizabeth felt better knowing that if she had a while to wait, that at least she had Ron to wait with. As the other students with surnames at the beginning of the alphabet were being sorted, Elizabeth was trying to find Richard among the students in the hall. She wasn't having much luck, but she manage to spot all three Weasley boys at the Gryffindor table, which wasn't much of a task with their vibrant ginger hair to give them away.

"Granger, Hermione!" Professor McGonagall called out.

Hermione almost ran to the stool and eagerly jammed the hat on her head. Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Ron groaned and Elizabeth sighed in relief. She was happy to finally be rid of the irritating know-it-all. She didn't know what she would do if she had to deal with her for seven years. As far as Elizabeth was concerned, Hermione Granger was Ron's problem now.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

Elizabeth noticed the poor boy who kept losing his toad was called to the stool and looked just as uneasy as he did after the boat ride. The hat took a few moments, but finally placed him in Gryffindor, much to Elizabeth's surprise. Not surprising was when Draco Malfoy took the stool and was quickly sorted into Slytherin. His family had a history of being in Slytherin House, so she expected nothing less of him.

Elizabeth began wondering if where her family were sorted had any effect on where she would be placed. She knew it was the case for the Weasleys. All of Ron's older brothers were sorted into Gryffindor, and his parents as well. She didn't think he would be any other house, and when Ginny started school next year, Elizabeth already knew she was certainly Gryffindor material. However, she didn't know about herself. Her grandparents had both been in Ravenclaw, and so was her father, but Uncle William wound up in Gryffindor. She remembered William's story that Aunt Abigail, despite her parents and brother being Ravenclaws, was a Hufflepuff herself. Her uncertainty over her place was consuming her and she was beginning to think it would have just been easier to live in France with Mamie so she could attend Beauxbatons like her mother did.

At last, Professor McGonagall called, "Potter, Harry!"

Elizabeth watched intensely as Harry stepped forward. Whispers broke out all over the hall as he sat down on the stool. She made eye contact with him before the hat dropped over his eyes. She inhaled deeply and held it. He was taking a while up there, much longer than anyone else had. She saw him grip the edges of the stool.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

She let her breath out. The whole of Gryffindor erupted in loud cheers. Percy got up to shake Harry's hand as he reached the house's table. The Weasley twins were yelling, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

The number of students waiting to be sorted had now dwindled down to the end and Elizabeth was more nervous than before, but not nearly as nervous as Ron seemed to be when his name was called. He was pale green by now and Elizabeth was sure she had to be too.

As he slowly walked toward the hat, Elizabeth figured this day would be the last she spent with Ron. They would now be sorted into different houses and make new friends. Even if she said she didn't like him and always claimed he was thick, she was very used to Ron in the way she was used to Richard. She had known him for so long that she had grown used to fighting with him. She had even grown used to being picked on by the twins.

A second later the hate shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

She knew it and felt slightly relieved for him. Being in the same house as his brothers, Ron would feel more at home at Hogwarts. She glanced over to the Gryffindor students and saw Harry clapping loudly with the rest of the table.

"Wellington, Elizabeth!"

She looked straight ahead when she heard her name. Nausea overwhelmed her by the time she reached the stool and put the hat on.

"Hmm, another Wellington," said the Hat in her ear. "Ravenclaw most likely. Indeed intelligent, an appetite for knowledge. But plenty of courage and loyalty. Yes, I'd say so ─ GRYFFINDOR!"

Elizabeth nearly stumbled off the stool. She didn't hear the Weasley twins cheering loudly, or Ron and Harry clapping. She couldn't hear anything except the ringing sound of the hat's decision in her ears. She collapsed next to Ron at the Gryffindor table. She only had one thought in her mind, _My grandmother's going to kill me_.

She didn't notice the final student become a Slytherin, or Dumbledore get up to give his speech. She kept going over the moment in her head. She didn't understand it. She didn't know how she was a Gryffindor when Richard had told her all summer long that she was exactly the right type for Ravenclaw. The only thing she could keep thinking was that her grandmother was surely going to faint when she heard the news, and when she woke up, she would blame William. She glanced over to the Ravenclaw table and this time her eyes found Richard immediately. He was watching her and when their eyes met, he shook his head and looked back at Dumbledore.

The dishes in front of her were now piled with food, but she didn't feel like eating. She didn't think she could stomach a meal right now. The nauseous feeling was worse than before.

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly, snapping Elizabeth out of her thoughts. She saw he was talking to one of the ghosts. "My brothers told me about you ─ you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

Elizabeth had heard about him too from Richard and knew he preferred not to be called that. Leave it to Ron to insult the dead, she thought.

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," the ghost said stiffly.

"_Nearly Headless_? How can you be nearly headless?" said Seamus Finnigan.

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed. "Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder, as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Ron and Seamus looked stunned and Elizabeth smiled at their reaction. She thought it served them right for being impolite to their house ghost.

Elizabeth didn't touch any of the food during the feast. Harry had tried to get her to eat something, but she just couldn't bring herself to eat. She didn't feel hungry at all, despite not having eaten since breakfast that morning. The conversation at the table turned to their families and Elizabeth found herself excluded from the rest of the talk. She was the only girl at their part of the table, but she would rather be there being ignored than sitting next to Hermione. It was now sinking in that not only would her grandmother be disappointed by the news and Richard seemed irked with her, but she was going to have to share a room with Hermione Granger until they finished their schooling.

While the boys were chatting with one another, she was checking out the other tables. She saw Malfoy at the Slytherin table sitting next to the Slytherin House ghost, the Bloody Baron, and he looked none too chuffed about it. She smiled slightly to herself at Malfoy's misery. She looked to Richard again, whom this time immediately avoided her gaze and any feeling of joy she had just gotten back disappeared as quickly as it came. She slumped down further in her seat, feeling dejected.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

Elizabeth was sitting next to him and immediately asked, "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing."

"You sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harry, looking at the High Table. "Hey Percy, who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?"

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you?" said Percy. "No wonder, he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape."

Richard had mentioned that Professor Snape taught Potions and was head of Slytherin House, but didn't say much else. When she tried to find out more, like whether he was a harsh professor or not, Richard just shrugged and told her it's probably best if she doesn't let him know she exists. She didn't understand what that meant and Percy's comment about Quirrell looking nervous speaking to him didn't help to clarify any.

Dumbledore got to his feet again as the last of the food disappeared.

"I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." His eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley Twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

Elizabeth was beginning to dislike school and didn't have high hopes for it improving. The night had not gone her way one bit with the sorting and Richard's attitude toward her had only made her feel worse. Being given a list of rules, completely separate from the ones her grandmother insisted she follow, was too much for her to handle.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

She didn't even bother paying mind to that announcement. She had never played Quidditch before; she had only watched it. First years never made the House team anyway, according to Richard. Margaret would never let her play even if she was the most naturally gifted Quidditch player in the known universe. She said it was much too dangerous when Richard wanted to try out for his House team years earlier. He seemed thoroughly disappointed, but Thomas didn't let him press the matter.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wise to die a very painful death."

She did pay mind to this, however. It greatly piqued her curiosity.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song! Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

Everyone finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march.

"And now, bedtime," said Dumbledore. "Off you trot!"

Elizabeth stood up and followed the rest of the Gryffindor first years, led by Percy Weasley, out of the Great Hall. He was telling them to keep close when they were met by a dark-haired Ravenclaw prefect leading his House's first years. He and Percy were talking at the front of the group, out of Elizabeth's range of hearing. Suddenly, he stopped walking, directing the Ravenclaw students down a corridor while the Gryffindors carried on straight ahead. When Elizabeth went to pass him, he grabbed her arm.

"Elizabeth Ann —"

A look of despair fouled Elizabeth's face. "What do you want?"

"Don't tell Gran about this," he whispered and then let go of her to follow the Ravenclaws to their common room.

She hurried to catch up with the Gryffindors ascending the marble staircase. Percy led them through doorways behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries, up more staircases, and down corridors before they suddenly came to a halt. A bunch of walking sticks had begun to fling themselves at Percy.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice. "Peeves, show yourself." A loud, rude sound answered. "Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

Elizabeth knew Percy was even worse than Richard. He jumped at the opportunity to tattle on anyone, especially his younger brothers. When Richard caught Elizabeth doing something she wasn't supposed to, he usually didn't run off to tell their grandmother. He told her off himself, or just ignored her altogether most of the time. She had to admit, she could have wound up with a lot worse for a brother. She could have wound up with Percy Weasley.

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Ickle Firsties!" he said, with an evil cackle. "What fun!"

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck his tongue out and vanished, dropping the walking sticks.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward.

They all scrambled through a round hole in the wall. The Gryffindor common room was filled with cozy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory. Hermione had now found Elizabeth again and was talking her ear off about the feast as Elizabeth trudged up the spiral staircase. She wanted to tell her to shut it already, but if she had to live with Hermione, she figured it would be best not to alienate her on the first night. As soon as she got to their room, she pulled on her pyjamas and got straight into bed. Although she was tired and just wanted the night to end, she couldn't fall asleep with the conversation in the room. She was surprised that this time it was not Hermione who was responsible for the annoyance. Lavender Brown had begun talking to Parvati Patil and neither were keeping their voices down. She still wasn't feeling her best, especially after what Richard had said on the way out of the Great Hall. She thought about asking the girls to go to bed as nicely as possible, as not to make enemies of her roommates already, when Hermione spoke up.

"Excuse me, some of us would like to be well rested for first day of lessons, if you don't mind."

Elizabeth rolled over in her bed to see Hermione sat upright with an annoyed expression on her face. She certainly didn't want to cause tension immediately, but Hermione had no problem in doing so. The two girls surprisingly didn't argue with Hermione though, and ended their conversation for the evening. With silence in the room, Elizabeth wrapped herself up in the duvet to prepare for sleep. She thought maybe Hermione Granger's irritating personality could be useful after all.

* * *

**A/N:** Plot points and quotes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter 6, The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, pages 110 to 112. Chapter 7, The Sorting Hat, 113 to 129.


	6. Chapter Five

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the tall kid with the red hair."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispered followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next morning.

"Just ignore them, Harry," Elizabeth told him.

"Ignore them?" said Ron. "How can he ignore them? They're everywhere!"

"Really, Ron. I hadn't noticed," said Elizabeth sarcastically.

Hogwarts was a virtual plethora of mazes and tricks.

"You know, my uncle told me about this place in the Muggle world he read about, in the states, you know," said Elizabeth.

"And?" Ron said.

"Well, it reminds me of this place. It has doors that open to nowhere and lots of staircases, some that lead to the ceiling."

"Of course, leave it to William Wellington to find a place like that."

"You know, your dad doesn't exactly keep his love of all things Muggle under wraps, Ron."

They were having the worst luck finding their classes. They had managed to somehow wind up on Filch's bad side on the first day. Elizabeth had been talking about her uncle when Filch popped out of nowhere and suddenly started off on what a trouble maker William and his friends had been in their day. If that wasn't enough to make Filch dislike them, Elizabeth had to ask Filch how he ever got rid of that tail. He was threatening to lock them in the Dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

As if Argus Filch running around the school with his creepy, dust-coloured cat Mrs. Norris wasn't bad enough, there were also classes and intimidating professors to worry about. Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder why she's called Mrs. Norris, though. She certainly hoped there wasn't a Mr. Norris. She thought that maybe, at one point, she was just Miss Norris and then Filch had married her. She didn't put it above him to marry a cat. He seemed like the pathetic kind of man who would do such a thing.

Elizabeth was bored by her classes. Herbology with Professor Sprout was far from interesting, although Neville seemed rather engrossed in the lesson. History of Magic had to be the unrivaled contender for most boring. It was taught by Professor Binns, a ghost, who hadn't seemed to realise he was dead. He could have very well bored students to death with his torturously slow, facts only lessons. Elizabeth didn't even like Charms. Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw House, taught it and he was a titchy little wizard, who seemed very enthusiastic about everything.

Professor McGonagall was still the one professor Elizabeth absolutely wanted to avoid. She gave them a stern talking-to the moment they entered her class. Her class had the potential to be exciting, but she quickly killed that. They took long, excruciating notes, and were each given a match to turn into a needle. Hermione Granger made her match all silver and pointy. Professor McGonagall showed the class and Elizabeth could tell Hermione was very proud of herself. It wasn't impressive to Elizabeth at all. She knew how to change forks into jacks. She wasn't supposed to do it, but she could. The Ministry had stopped caring if a young girl changed the silverware into toys. They couldn't go sending every child that accidently performed magic to Azkaban, now could they? Of course, after she had learned she could do this, it wasn't accidental anymore when it happened. The way the Ministry saw it, if a child did magic deemed irrelevant or unimportant in private, like transfigure household items or levitate their toys in the wizarding world, it wasn't worth much Ministry action beyond a letter. Punishment from one's parents was suitable enough and Margaret was always sure to punish Elizabeth. Matches to needles was still nothing to her, as she once turned all the doorknobs in the house into marshmallows when she was six and Margaret had locked her in her room as a timeout. By the end of class, she had no trouble at all changing her match into a shiny silver needle. Professor McGonagall did not seem impressed by her at all, though.

"Your brother could do the same thing his first year," she said.

Elizabeth couldn't help but feel that whatever hostility Professor McGonagall had towards her was William's fault. Her comments reminded her even more of Margaret, who would always boast of Richard when Elizabeth accomplished something and did the same of her to him, as to not install a sense of pride in either of them.

She was looking forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was her uncle's specialty. She knew lots of spells from him that she was eager to try, but Quirrell's lesson turned out to be a joke. His class smelled of garlic because he was afraid of vampires, and that turban on his head bothered Elizabeth because whenever he would write something on the board it would block her view. She thought he looked silly wearing it. Fred and George said he had garlic in it, so he was protected wherever he went. She didn't know if she believed that, but thought it could be true. Professor Quirrell seemed odd enough to do it and his stuttering problem was a bit of a bother when trying to take notes during his lectures.

Friday was the most dreadful day for Elizabeth. They had double Potions with the Slytherins and she wanted to stay as far away from them as possible. She walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, noticing the mail had already arrived. She took a seat next to Harry and Ron, who was sucking on his finger. She noticed a letter addressed to her and started laughing at Ron.

"I see you've met Odysseus," she said.

"Bloody bird," he mumbled.

She ripped the letter open. "Oh no!"

"What?" Ron mumbled, his finger back in his mouth.

Elizabeth spun around to look at the Ravenclaw table. "Where's Richard?"

"Hafen't 'een 'im," Ron said.

"I'll catch up with you at Potions," she said, already having run from the table. She began down the hall towards the Gryffindor common room when she heard a voice.

"Elizabeth Ann, get over here."

She spun around, ready to hit him. "You told on me!"

"I did not!"

Elizabeth held up her letter. "I got a letter from Gran. She's says she's knows what happened."

Richard ripped the letter from her, reading it. He looked up at her, then back at the letter. He finished and handed her a letter from Margaret to him. "She said the same thing to me."

Elizabeth took the letter and read it over. Sure enough, it was full of the same accusations and threats that were in her letter.

"Gran sends them every year," Richard said. "It's just a scare tactic so you don't actually go causing trouble."

"Oh," Elizabeth said as she looked over the letter. "Oh, I get it."

Richard snatched his letter back. "Sure you do." She started off, but he grabbed her arm. "Hey, what have you learned about him? Everyone's dying to know."

Elizabeth pulled her arm away. "He lives with Muggles and he just found out he's a wizard."

"You're kidding me? The whole world knows who he is, how can he not?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "You wanted to know and that's what I know. He's not very talkative."

Richard scoffed. "Yeah, I bet not to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Go to class, Elizabeth Ann."

He handed her back her letter and walked away. He was already out of sight when she noticed he had slipped her a note. On the front was Professor Snape's name in her uncle's handwriting. She wanted to open it up and read it, but knew she had better not. William was terribly secretive and if he found out she was reading his letters, he'd punish her himself, and she feared being punished by William more than by Margaret.

Elizabeth wasn't very happy after Potions. Actually, she was in a particularly sour mood. The lesson had gone horribly, Professor Snape took points from Gryffindor, and not even for any justifiable reason other than he was truly an unpleasant person.

Potions lessons took place down in the dungeons, where it was considerably colder than the rest of the castle and rather creepy. Professor Snape took roll call, and like the other teachers, stopped at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new ─ _celebrity_."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. He was really starting to get on her nerves. Professor Snape continued on with role call, and unexpectedly stopped at Elizabeth's name.

"Well, another Wellington in Gryffindor," he said. "Must be terrible for your grandmother. She hasn't died of disappointment, now, has she?"

Elizabeth was busy staring down at the note "Why? Has yours?" she said, not thinking.

The Gryffindors laughed, but the Slytherins were not amused. Professor Snape approached her, slamming his hand on her desk. Her head shot up to him staring at her. His eyes were black and empty. They reminded her of dark tunnels.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you first impressions are the most important?" he hissed.

"My uncle," she said, sliding the note to his hand.

He looked down at it before snatching it up and heading back to the front of the class. "Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Wellington."

He then gave a speech, that Elizabeth later told Richard about, saying it was his misplaced affection speech. Much like Filch with Mrs. Norris, Elizabeth was sure if Snape could marry Potions, he would.

Silence followed his odd little speech, and Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and Elizabeth cursed herself for getting stuck next to Hermione again. The lesson only got worse. Snape started firing questions at Harry that even Elizabeth couldn't answer right away. Hermione Granger was dancing in her seat practically, her hand stretched towards the ceiling. As Hermione had told Elizabeth that morning, she had read all of her textbooks several times and any other book she could get her hands on. She didn't understand how a swot like Hermione wound in Gryffindor and not Ravenclaw where she clearly belonged.

Snape snapped at Hermione to sit down and started to hiss at Harry the answers to his questions. Elizabeth thought he was being way too hard on Harry, and she wondered why. She thought it wasn't fair that just because he was a famous wizard he should have to know everything. He had lived with Muggles his entire life before Hagrid rescued him this summer and Elizabeth believed that he should have been given some time to adjust to his new life. After all, she figured it must have been a lot to absorb to learn you saved the wizarding world from evil after spending eleven years living life in a cupboard under the stairs thinking you were an unimportant nobody.

He then put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them, criticising almost everyone except Malfoy. He stopped by Elizabeth and Hermione's table and instead of insulting them he simply sneered in disgust and swept away. He seemed to like Malfoy and Elizabeth could guess why. Slytherins stuck with other Slytherins, especially someone like Draco Malfoy and his family.

Professor Snape was busy praising Malfoy when Neville Longbottom melted Seamus Finnigan's cauldron and their potion spilled all over the floor. Neville had been drenched in it and began sprouting red boils all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire."

Elizabeth felt bad for Neville. He had just screwed up his potion and was covered in painful boils. He didn't need Snape yelling at him too.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You ─ Potter ─ why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Elizabeth beat him to it.

"Excuse me, Professor Snape," said Elizabeth, "but how is Neville's mistake Harry's fault?"

Snape whipped around and stared at her. "Would you like detention, Wellington," said Professor Snape, "because it certainly seems that way to me."

"No, I'm just saying it's not fair that you're ─"

"Fair? I'm sorry, I must have missed something. When did it become up to you to decide what is fair, Miss Wellington?"

"No need to take your anger out on me or Harry."

"Another five points for your insolent behaviour."

"How is that being insolent?"

The class would have laughed if they weren't so afraid of Snape at this point.

"Ten points," snapped Professor Snape.

Seething, Elizabeth said the first thing to mind, not caring how disrespectful she came off. "I'm sure my grandmother will love telling the Ministry's authority over Hogwarts about this."

She had no plans to actually write to her grandmother that she had gotten in trouble during her first Potions lessons, but Snape didn't have to know that. He didn't say anything in response to Elizabeth's threat. He just stood there, glaring menacingly at her. Finally, Professor Snape whisked away from her, his robes billowing behind him. The whole class was silent. Elizabeth gripped her wand tightly. Just then her cauldron dented. Snape whipped around at the sound.

"Wellington!" he snarled. "What have you done?"

"I dented my cauldron, sir," she gritted through her teeth. The other side of the cauldron bent in causing it to look like an hourglass.

Elizabeth, like William, had trouble controlling her magic at an early age. She wasn't as powerful as William though, so she couldn't shatter glass or engulf a settee in fire, but she could dent metal fairly easily. In fact, she was so good at this that more than once had all the drapery rods had to be replaced and the silver serving tray Margaret had inherited from her mother was no longer flat, but now a V shape. Margaret said she had a fondness for metal because whenever she turned around there was Elizabeth either transforming it into something it shouldn't be, or breaking it altogether.

"It happens," she added.

Professor Snape glared at her and before he could take five points from Gryffindor, the cauldron collapsed in on itself like a metal disc, spilling the potion all over. Professor Snape growled at her.

"I wouldn't if you're wearing any metal," Elizabeth warned.

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Elizabeth was still burning mad. She was lucky she hadn't bent the cauldrons of everyone in class.

"I can't believe he didn't give you detention for threatening to tell your gran on him," Ron said.

"Draco Malfoy threatens to tell his father on people all the time and it works so why can't I do it?"

Ron just shrugged.

"I can't believe you can bend metal," Harry said, clearly fascinated that such magic existed.

"Yeah, it's a real talent," Ron said sarcastically.

"You're just sore about your bed frame," she snapped. "You shouldn't have angered me."

"You caused the whole thing to break."

"It didn't break, it just bent in the middle."

"How was I supposed to sleep on that?"

Elizabeth stopped to face him. She calmly said, "I'll hit you."

She walked quickly away from them and towards the common room. She was surprised to find Richard along the way with Percy. He held out a quill and a letter.

"Sign this," he said.

"What is it?" She wasn't particularly in the mood for Richard, or anyone else at that moment.

"It's for Gramps' birthday, just sign it."

Elizabeth reluctantly took the quill and letter. "Turn around," she demanded.

He did, allowing her to put the letter on his back. She quickly signed it dotting her I with force, causing Richard to shout in pain.

"Elizabeth Ann!" He whirled around, ripping the letter and quill from her.

"How do you expect to send that?" she asked.

"Telemachus' maiden voyage," he said puffing out his chest, clearly quite proud of the little bird.

"He can't even sit on his perch, let alone fly all the way back to Diagon Alley."

Richard's chest deflated. "He can too!" He folded the letter and put it in his pocket. "You just wait, he'll not only make it there, he'll come all the way back in no time."

Elizabeth laughed at the thought of the little bird trying to fly this summer when Richard let him out of his cage. He got less than a half a metre and fell right to the floor, squawking as he rolled around in an attempt to get back up.

"What are you laughing at?" Richard asked as Elizabeth climbed the stairs. "He'll fly! You just wait! He'll fly right now and you'll have to apologise for everything you've ever said about him!"

Elizabeth reached the top of the landing and turned around to look at him. "No, he won't," she said confidently. "He's fallen every time he's tried. Never made it more than a metre."

"He will!"

"Sure he will."

"He will right now!"

"No, he won't."

"I swear he will. I'll go to Owlery right now and send this with him." Richard held up the letter.

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. "Then go. I don't believe you, Richard. If that bird can fly I'll let Odysseus bite me."

"Okay! Let's go."

"Go."

A crowd of students had gathered around to listen.

"Go put your books away and we'll go."

"Why do I have to go?"

"So you can be there to eat your words when Telemachus does fly."

"He's not going to fly."

"He will."

"He won't."

They were used to a fast form of arguing in which neither of them ever stopped a second to think about what they were saying and one had barely finished the last word of their sentence before the other had started right back with their response.

"Go put your books away and we'll see."

"Fine. He's not going to fly though."

"He will and then you'll have to let Odysseus bite you."

"He won't and then we'll have to get Talons again and Gran will have a right fit about it."

With that, she turned and her heel and stomped back all the way to the common room. She hated the day she was having.

* * *

**A/N:** Plot points and quotes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter 8, The Potions Master, pages 131 to 139.


	7. Chapter Six

The Owlery was cold and drafty. There were no windows and the floor was covered in straw, bones, and owl droppings. She hated the way it smelled and the breeze coming through the glassless windows was making her shiver.

"There he is," Richard said, pointing to a small, sleeping, brown ball of feathers.

"You sure he's alive?" She poked him and Telemachus fell over. "Richard!"

He pushed her out of the way. "Stop pushing him." Richard picked him up in his hands and the little bird started screeching.

"It's alive," Elizabeth said, covering her ears to block out the noise.

Richard was gently stroking Telemachus. "It's okay, boy," he said softly. "You're okay."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "You baby talk the owl?"

"Shut it! It–it calms him down is all." Richard pulled out the letter. "Are you going to fly today? Huh?"

"I can't believe you talk to it that way."

"Shut it!" Richard whinged. "You just don't like animals."

"That's not an animal." Elizabeth pointed at Telemachus. "That's a feather duster."

Richard glared at her and attached the letter to Telemachus. He carried him to one of the open windows. "Okay, Telemachus, this is it."

"He's gonna fall."

"He's not going to fall, Elizabeth Ann!"

During all of this Telemachus was dosing in and out of consciousness. Elizabeth could tell because whenever he fell asleep he would fall backwards onto Richard's hands and flap around until he was upright again.

"This is how Uncle William learned to fly, right?" she asked. "He dove off the Astronomy Tower."

"Don't let him tell you that. He didn't dive off the Astronomy Tower, he fell studying for his OWLs."

"Well, then it's suiting he became an owl."

Richard hushed her. He shook Telemachus awake and placed him on the window ledge. "Go on," he urged the little bird, but Telemachus just ruffled his feathers.

"Oh yeah, Richard, he can fly alright," she said sarcastically.

Richard tried gently pushing him. "Go on, Telemachus." But the bird did not budge. Elizabeth yawned loudly, but Richard ignored her. "He can too fly. Come on, Telemachus. Fly." He pushed the bird again and it stumbled forward before falling backwards and crying. "Maybe if I —"

Richard didn't have time to finish his sentence. Elizabeth had grabbed Telemachus with both hands and threw him out the window.

"ELIZABETH ANN!" Richard shouted, nearly jumping out the window after Telemachus.

The little bird was hardly visible now that the sun was setting, but they could clearly see him falling. Richard closed his eyes as he nearly hit the ground, but just as he was about to, the little bird hovered off the ground. He flapped his wings with all his might and rose. Given it was about the height of an average sized dog that he was flying at, but he was flying nonetheless.

"Hmm," Elizabeth shrugged. "I guess you can call that flying. I mean he hasn't hit the —"

Just as she was about to finish her sentence, Telemachus fell to the ground, but quickly got back up, flying low like he was intoxicated, in a bumpy, unpredictable pattern that almost smacked him right into a few trees.

"Nevermind," she finished.

Richard jumped from window to window, watching the little bird go, slowly, but going nonetheless. He cheered. "He did it! He can fly!" He spun around to Elizabeth, a wide goofy grin plastered to his face. "And you have fun spending some quality time with Odysseus."

"Shut it!" she snapped.

She wasn't looking forward to the next time the mail came and she had to let Odysseus bite her. When she entered the common room the next day, she thought the entire room sound like they would be suffering the same fate. All the first year Gryffindors were groaning in a way that sounded awfully similar to when Fred and George poisoned Percy with their joke candies. She walked over to Ron and Harry.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"That's a very specific wish you have there, Potter," said Elizabeth. He just looked at her. "It was just a joke. So what's the news? Something about brooms?"

"Flying lessons start Thursday," said Ron.

"Great," said Elizabeth cheerfully.

"With the Slytherins," said Harry.

"Not so great," she said miserably.

Elizabeth had always wanted to try flying. Her grandmother would never let her and her uncle didn't need a broom to fly, so he was no help there. She wondered if she'd catch on quickly enough. She didn't want to be in the same position as Hermione Granger. She was incredibly nervous about flying and had checked _Quidditch Through the Ages_ out of the library for help. Elizabeth had told her that flying was not something she could learn out of book, but Hermione wouldn't listen. She spent breakfast Thursday morning telling them all the tips she'd gotten from it. No one except Neville was listening.

The post had come again. Elizabeth hadn't received another threatening letter so she was sure Richard was right about it just being one of their grandmother's scare tactics. Neville's grandmother had sent him a Remembrall this morning.

"This tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do," he explained. "Look, if you hold it tight like this and it turns red ─ oh..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "... you've forgotten something..."

Elizabeth smiled because she liked Neville. He thought he was a nice boy. A bit clumsy, and obviously forgetful, but he was nice. Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand. Elizabeth slammed her hands on the table and pushed herself up from her seat. She snarled at Malfoy. Harry and Ron were half hoping that she'd hex Malfoy from here to eternity, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table. "Just looking," he said, and he walked away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

Elizabeth reluctantly sat down and Professor McGonagall went back to the High Table. "One of these days, I'm going to petrify him and give him to Fred and George as a gift. I'm sure they'd love to have a new test subject."

At three-thirty the Gryffindors hurried out onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear breezy day and Elizabeth couldn't wait to try flying. The Slytherins were already there when they arrived. Madam Hooch arrived shortly after. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." She waited for everyone to be in position. "Stick out your right hand over your broom, and say 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Elizabeth's broom jumped into her hand. She was excited, partially because she got it no problem, and partially because Hermione Granger didn't. She had noticed that Harry had gotten his broom up as well and smiled at him. Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," she said. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle ─ three ─ two ─"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy, had accidently pushed off before the whistle had blown.

"Come back!" shouted Madam Hooch.

Neville was rising straight up rapidly. He looked back, scared, at the ground falling away, and slipped sideways off the broom. He hit the ground with a thud and a crack. Elizabeth winced at the sound. Madam Hooch was bending over him in no time.

"Broken wrist," she muttered. "Come on ─ it's all right, up you get." She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'"

Neville hobbled off with Madam Hooch, clutching his wrist. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

Elizabeth glared at him. "Where's my wand? I'm going to obliterate him."

"Oh, really, Wellington?" said Pansy Parkison, a pug faced Slytherin girl. "You think that just because you can turn a match into a needle, you can do magic now?"

"Well, from what I hear it's more than you can do," said Elizabeth.

Pansy scowled. Elizabeth did the same.

"Liz, knock it off!" said Ron, pulling her back by the arms as she darted forward.

"Look!" said Malfoy, snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

He held up the Remembrall. Elizabeth tried to pulled her arms away from Ron, but he tightened his grip.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking. Elizabeth was still.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find ─ how about ─ up a tree?"

Malfoy mounted his broomstick and took off. He hovered over the trees. "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom, mounted it, and kicked off hard. He soared up. He was fantastic at flying.

Ron let go of Elizabeth and she stumbled forward, almost falling on her face. She was staring in amazement at Harry. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take him even higher. Girls in the class were screaming and gasping. Ron and Elizabeth had begun cheering for him.

Harry turned his broomstick to face a stunned Malfoy. No one on the ground could hear what they were saying, but could see that they were indeed exchanging words. Suddenly Harry shot at Malfoy. He only got out of the way in time. He threw the ball into the air and watched it streak back toward the ground. Elizabeth's eyes widened. There was only one thought on her mind; Catch that ball.

Harry leaned forward on his broom and pointed the handle down. Elizabeth saw him racing the ball, his hand outstretched to catch it. A foot from the ground he did, and toppled onto the ground with Neville's Remembrall in his fist.

Elizabeth sighed in relief before she heard a voice behind her.

"HARRY POTTER!"

She tensed up again. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. "_Never_ ─ in all my time at Hogwarts ─" She seemed speechless and Elizabeth felt sick with worry. "─ how _dare_ you ─ might have broken your neck ─"

Elizabeth couldn't stand this. She couldn't let Harry get in trouble. "It wasn't his fault, Professor ─"

"Be quiet, Miss Wellington ─"

"But Malfoy ─"

"That's _enough_, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Harry walked behind Professor McGonagall into the castle. Malfoy looked triumphant and opened his mouth to, no doubt, insult Harry.

"Piss off, Malfoy!" screamed Elizabeth. "If he's in any trouble because of you, I swear ─" She was furious and sure if there was anything around that could have suddenly dented, it would have.

"Come on, Liz," said Ron quietly.

She turned her back to Malfoy and looked at Ron. "They wouldn't expel him, would they? It wasn't his fault. He didn't do anything."

"I know, but I guess they could if they wanted to."

* * *

**A/N:** Plot points and quotes from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter 9, The Midnight Duel, pages 143 to 149.


	8. Chapter Seven

"You're _joking_."

It was dinnertime and Elizabeth had finally calmed down. Harry had just finished telling them what happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall.

"Seeker?" said Ron. "But first years never ─ you must be the youngest house player in about ─"

"─ a century," said Harry.

"That's wonderful, Harry!" said Elizabeth. "Congratulations. When do you start training?"

"Next week. Only don't tell anyone, Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Elizabeth knew who Oliver Wood was. He was a fifth year like Richard, except he was Gryffindor House's Quidditch team captain and Keeper. He was kind of obsessive about it too. Fred and George Weasley had now joined them at the table.

"Well done," said George to Harry in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too ─ Beaters."

"You must be good, Harry," said Fred. "Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

Elizabeth laughed. "Now, there's an image."

"Very funny," said George sarcastically.

"Anyway, we've got to go," said Fred. "Lee Jordan reckons he found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"I doubt Lee Jordan could find out anything sneaky that you two don't already know," said Elizabeth.

Fred and George disappeared after saying goodbye. Suddenly, someone far less welcome turned up.

"Having a last meal, Potter?" said Malfoy. "When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You know what, Draco?" Elizabeth stood to face him. "You're ─"

"A lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly.

"I'd take you on anytime time on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only ─ no contact. What's the matter?" He was taking note of the look on Harry's face. "Never heard of a wizard's duel before?"

"Of course he has," said Ron. "I'm his second, who's yours."

"No," said Elizabeth sharply. "You are no one's second, Ron, because no one is dueling anyone."

"Better listen to her, Weasley," said Malfoy. "Potter doesn't stand a chance."

"Shut it, Draco," spat Elizabeth. "I just don't want to further your embarrassment. I mean, after what happened during flying lessons, I couldn't handle you crying if you lost at something you think you're good at again."

Draco scowled at her. He turned to Ron and Harry. "Crabbe and I will meet you two at midnight in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Elizabeth sat back down.

"What is a wizard's duel?" Harry asked.

"Something _you_ will not be participating in," said Elizabeth.

"Yes, he will," argued Ron.

"No, I have a bad feeling about this."

"You have a bad feeling about everything."

"Ron, I know Draco. He's up to something."

"What _is_ a wizard's duel?" Harry asked again. "And what do you mean you're my second, Ron?"

Ron and Elizabeth stopped arguing for a second.

"Well, a second is there to take over in case you die," said Ron casually.

Elizabeth caught the look on Harry's face. "But people only die in proper duels," she said. "Even if you were ever in a duel you couldn't do anything. You don't know enough magic yet."

"Maybe you should be his second, Liz. You know a lot more magic. You could do some damage to Malfoy. Maybe teach him a lesson."

"No! You should have just refused the duel in the first place!"

"What happens if I wave my wand and nothing happens?" asked Harry.

"Throw it away and punch him in the nose," Ron suggested.

"Excuse me." They looked up to see Hermione Granger standing there. "I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying ─"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"You're looking to get smacked, aren't you?" said Elizabeth to him.

"I have to tell you that you mustn't go wandering around the castle at night," said Hermione. "You'll lose points for Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

Elizabeth couldn't stand Hermione, but she had to agree with her. If Harry went wandering around the castle at night, Filch was sure to catch him. Then it hit her; Malfoy knew that. He was actually counting on it. He wasn't going to show up to duel Harry, he was going to tip Filch off about it, and then revel in it when Harry got in serious trouble.

Ron and Harry had left the hall by the time Elizabeth had snapped out of her thoughts. Hermione was watching her.

"Aren't you going to go with them?" she said. "You know, engage in the rule breaking."

Elizabeth's eyes shot up to Hermione. "No," she said. "I'm going to stop them."

Hermione looked incredibly pleased with Elizabeth's answer. "Well, maybe you're not as bad as I thought you were. So, how are you going to stop them?"

"I don't know yet, but I'll think of something."

She gathered her things and left the Great Hall. Not long after exiting, Richard came running up to her, waving a letter.

"Guess what," he said.

She didn't even look at him. "That's not from Telemachus."

"How do you know?"

Elizabeth held up a bandaged finger. "Because I saw Odysseus today."

Richard stopped and held the letter in his hands. "Okay, so it's not the response to my letter, but that's not the point."

"Then what _is_ the point, Richard?"

Richard simply handed her the letter. She read the envelope aloud. "_Richard Oliver Thomas Wellington_. Yeah, that's your name, Richard."

"No, no, _on_ the letter." He opened the letter and pointed to a poorly scribbled name at the bottom. "There."

Elizabeth squinted to read. "Yours truly —" She looked up at Richard, who was smiling bright. "No," she whispered.

"Yes! He wrote me and not you!" Richard was almost dancing around her.

"What about?" She tried reading the full letter, but Richard snatched it from her.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She tried grabbing it back, but he pulled away. "He congratulated me on becoming prefect this year," Richard said, taking off down the hallway.

"Yeah, well," she mumbled. "Someone should write him back and tell him not to encourage your swottiness." But he was already strolling around the corner, looking all too pleased with himself. "I'm going to write him, then you'll see, Richard!"

Elizabeth already found herself angry that week with the way Draco was acting and now challenging Harry to a duel he had no intentions of showing up for. Richard proving once again he's a git didn't help her mood one bit, but she felt more determined than anything when she entered her dormitory. Hermione pounced on her at once.

"Where did you go?" said Hermione.

"Richard stopped me." She moved over to her bed and fell on it.

"Ooo, good, did you tell him about the duel? Maybe he and the other prefects could stop it."

Elizabeth stared up at the ceiling, her arms lay outstretched and hung over the edges of the bed. "No."

"Why not? Have you got a plan at least?"

"Because and no. Richard wouldn't believe me if I told him anyway. He always thinks I'm making up stories for attention."

Hermione walked over to Elizabeth's bedside. "Then what're you going to do?"

"I was just going to talk to Harry."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Then I'm going to use stupefy on him and Ron. They can't go if they're unconscious."

"That's an awful idea."

Elizabeth sat up to look at Hermione. "Then you come up with something!" The night was not turning out to be a good one for her and Hermione's incessant nagging just made her particularly irritable.

"I say we tell Percy," said Hermione.

"No way, he'd only get them in trouble. The whole point of this is to keep them out of trouble, remember?"

"Well, what do you suggest we do then?"

"Just try to talk some sense into Harry, I guess. What else can we do?" She got up off her bed. "We'll go down the common room and wait for them. If you can distract Ron maybe I'll get a chance to persuade Harry not to go." Hermione looked unconvinced. "It's worth a try, is it not?"

At quarter after eleven they snuck down to the common room. There were still a few embers glowing in the fireplace. They sat down in adjacent armchairs and waited for Ron and Harry to sneak through the common room on their way to the duel.

"What do you plan to tell Harry?" said Hermione.

"That it's a trap and Malfoy isn't going to show." Elizabeth stared at the burning embers in the fireplace.

"What makes you say that?"

"Because I know Draco and he's crafty like that. You've witnessed his dislike for Harry. What makes you think he wouldn't do anything to get him in trouble?"

Hermione was silent for a few minutes. Elizabeth continued to stare at the embers. She was more wrapped up in thinking about that letter Richard received that she had completely forgotten about the duel for a moment.

"And what happens if talking to him doesn't work?" said Hermione.

Elizabeth suddenly remembered where she was and what she was doing. "I already told you, I'm going to knock them both unconscious."

"That's a horrible plan!"

Elizabeth looked over at Hermione. She could see her silhouette in the dark. "Well, I don't see you coming up with something better."

Hermione was quiet for a good ten minutes after that. "All right, I've got it. We should ─"

Elizabeth hushed her. "Be quiet. I think I hear them coming."

Ron and Harry crept down the spiral staircase and silently across the common room. They were almost at the portrait hole when Hermione spoke.

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry." She turned on a lamp, illuminating the room.

"_You!_" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"Funny," said Elizabeth, "I was just going to say the same thing to you." Elizabeth stood up from her chair and walked over to Ron. "You know, you're going to get caught. Not that I wouldn't mind seeing what your mother'd do to you if you got expelled, but I don't want to see Harry get in trouble just because you're a stupid git."

"What's with you?" He pointed to Hermione. "She's warped your mind, hasn't she?"

Hermione looked offended. "I almost told your brother, Percy ─ he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

Elizabeth would have killed her if she told Percy. She didn't want her friends in any trouble. If she did, she would have let them go get caught by Filch and saved Percy the trouble of having to turn them over to an authority figure.

"Come on," said Harry to Ron. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole.

Elizabeth wasn't going to give up that easily. "Harry, wait! You don't know what you're doing. Harry!"

She followed Ron through the portrait hole with Hermione at her heels, hissing at Ron and Harry.

"Don't you _care_ about Gryffindor ─"

"Shut it, Hermione," said Elizabeth.

"Do you _only_ care about yourselves ─"

"Shut it, Hermione," Elizabeth repeated loudly.

"_I_ don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll ─"

"Shut it, Hermione!"

"Both of you, go away," said Ron.

"All right, but I warned you, just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so ─"

"So _what_?" Elizabeth looked back at Hermione.

She had turned back to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visiting, leaving them all locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Now what are we going to do?" she asked shrilly, looking at Elizabeth.

"That's your problem, girls," said Ron. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor when Elizabeth and Hermione caught up with them.

"We're coming with you," said Hermione.

"You are _not_."

Elizabeth ignored them. She didn't care what they said to each other as long as they kept each other occupied.

"I need to talk to you," Elizabeth whispered to Harry. "Draco isn't going to show, this is all a trap."

"How are you sure of that?" whispered Harry. "You don't know if ─"

He stopped talking. They heard something, a sort of snuffling. Ron and Hermione were still arguing.

"Shut it, you two!" said Elizabeth. "There's something there."

Ron must have heard it too. "Mrs. Norris?" he breathed.

A sigh of relief washed over them all when they saw it wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep. As they crept nearer he jerked awake.

"Thank goodness you found me!"

"All right, Neville, keep your voice down," said Elizabeth. "What're doing out here?"

"I couldn't remember the password to get in to bed."

Poor Neville, he was always forgetting things. She was glad Draco didn't break the Remembrall, as he really did need it.

"The password's 'Pig snout'," said Ron. "But it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" asked Harry.

"Fine." Neville showed them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good, now, come on, we can't leave you here alone." Elizabeth extended her hand for Neville to take. He grabbed it and she helped him stand up.

"What? He can't come with us," said Ron.

"Well, we can't leave him here."

"He'll get in the way."

"In the way of what? Ron, we are not leaving anyone out here, alone, at night, to be an easy target for Peeves."

"Fine," spat Ron, looking at Neville and Hermione. "But if any of you get us caught ─" He turned to Elizabeth. "─ especially you, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet. He beckoned them all forward. As the finally entered the trophy room, Elizabeth's nerves were running wild. She was so afraid that they were going to turn a corner and Filch would jump out with that cat of his and get them all expelled. Malfoy wasn't anywhere in sight, but Elizabeth knew he wouldn't be. They had all just walked into his trap and she just wanted to get them out of there before Filch came along.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

"Listen to me," whispered Elizabeth. "He is not coming. Stop. This is a trap. Stop. We should get out of here now. Stop. Do you understand? End message."

"Why are you always ─" Ron stopped. A noise in the next room made them all jump.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

Elizabeth went rigid. It was Filch talking to Mrs. Norris. She knew they needed to get out of there, she just didn't know which way to go. If they wanted any chance of getting out of there safely and back to Gryffindor Tower, she knew someone was going to have to take the lead and stepped up. She waved the other four to follow her quickly as she took off. They hurried out the door, away from Filch's voice, and down a long gallery of suits of armour.

Filch was getting nearer to them as they tried to creep along silently. Scared, Neville broke into a run, tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. Elizabeth was sure that all the clanging and clashing had woken the whole school, and definitely sent Filch running in their direction.

With no need to be quiet anymore, she yelled, "RUN!"

The five of them sprinted down the gallery, swung around the doorpost, and raced down several corridors. Elizabeth was in the lead, without any idea where they were going, she was just running away from Filch as fast as she could. She couldn't tell which part of the castle they were in when it was so dark. She didn't care though, she just wanted to get them all back to the common room where they'd be safe.

They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway. They came out near their Charms classroom, which was miles from the trophy room. Elizabeth stopped for second and sat down on the floor to catch her breath.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead.

"I ─ _told_ ─ you," Hermione gasped. "I ─ told ─ you."

Elizabeth was starting to regret letting Hermione help her. She had been nothing but trouble since day one and Elizabeth knew she shouldn't have ever told her anything. Hermione Granger was a no good meddling swot who should have just left them all alone because her constant disapproval was helping no one.

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You realise that, don't you? He was never going to meet you ─ Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

"Piss off," said Elizabeth. "You didn't figure that out on your own, I told you that. And you ─" She turned to Harry. "You didn't want to believe me when I told you." She walked further down the corridor. "Let's go. And not a word from any of you, got it?"

It wasn't going to be as simple as walking back to Gryffindor Tower, though. Suddenly a doorknob rattled and Peeves came shooting out of a classroom. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight. Peeves was just as bad, if not worse, than Filch and Elizabeth didn't want to deal with running from both in one night.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

Elizabeth thought if she was as nice to him as possible she could maybe get them all back to the common room without him drawing any attention to them.

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves ─ this was a big mistake.

"Ron, no!"

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a locked door.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

"Ron, shut it!" said Elizabeth, pushing him out of the way. She tried opening the door to no avail.

Hermione pulled out her wand and tapped the lock. "_Alohomora!_" she whispered. The lock clicked and the door swung open.

"Maybe you're not useless," Elizabeth whispered to Hermione, who would have argued if Harry had not pushed them through the door.

They piled through, shut it, and pressed their ears against it. They listened for any commotion on the other side of the door, but Elizabeth's heart was beating so fast that blood was pounding in her ears. She could barely hear Peeves messing with Filch, and then Filch cursing as Peeves whooshed away.

"L-Liz, Harry," squeaked Neville. His voice was trembling with fear.

"What?" said Elizabeth turning around.

They were in the forbidden corridor, and now she knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a three headed dog that filled the whole space between the ceiling and floor. Elizabeth had read about this somewhere before, but she couldn't place it. Leave it to Elizabeth Wellington to be in a life or death situation and the only thing on her mind is not how to survive, but what book she had read about this in. She was more like Hermione than she knew.

The dog was watching them with all six eyes, yellowish fangs in clear view as the beast growled. Suddenly they all fell backward. Harry had opened the door and slammed it shut. They ran back down the corridor, no sign of Filch. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that ─ pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry.

The portrait swung open and they all scrambled into the common room, collapsing into armchairs. It was a while before any of them spoke. They were all trying to calm down and catch their breaths.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and sunk back into her chair.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" snapped Hermione.

Elizabeth's eyes shot open. She had had just enough of Hermione Granger for one night. She was ready to tell her off once and for all.

"Didn't you see what it was standing on?" Hermione continued.

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looked at its feet. I was too busy with its heads."

"No, _not_ the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

That was it! Elizabeth jumped out of her chair. "Cerberus!"

"What?" said Ron.

"That dog! I knew I had read about a three-headed dog before, but couldn't figure out where. Cerberus is the demon hound of Hades in Greek mythology. He guards the gates of hell, ensuring that spirits of the dead could enter, but none could exit."

Elizabeth's grandfather had read more books in his life than she could count. He had read every book in the shop, in the house, in Hogwarts' library, and every year he would get new books for his birthday and Christmas, which he would finish promptly as well. He read spell books, cookery books, children's books. He read books from from the wizarding world, but also from the Muggle world. He just liked reading. One of his favourite subjects was Greek mythology, which is why the family owl was named Odysseus, because he went on long journeys, Thomas said. He had also named Telemachus to no one's surprise.

"And where did you read that tosh?" Ron asked.

"My grandfather's bookshelf," she said. "And it's not tosh! That dog is guarding that door, making sure none can enter, and what's ever in there can't get out."

"But what's in there?"

"I don't know. The book didn't tell me that, Ron."

"Well, a lot of use that does us."

Hermione stood up, glaring at them. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed ─ or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed. Elizabeth, are you coming?"

"Yeah, I guess," said Elizabeth. "Hopefully there won't be any more excitement tonight."

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter Nine, The Midnight Duel, pages 152 to 162.


	9. Chapter Eight

They were all overjoyed to see Malfoy shocked when Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day. The meeting with the three-headed dog was considered quite the adventure by them, but Hermione simply didn't agree with that line of thinking and was consequently not speaking to Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth at all, which actually was a pleasant change of pace. Hermione was such a bossy know-it-all that she was starting to get on their nerves with each nagging complaint she had about their behaviour. Elizabeth thought if all Hermione wanted to do was continuously lecture them about the consequences of their actions, she should have befriended Percy Weasley rather than hang around Harry, Ron, and her. The two of them appeared to have a lot more in common than any of them did with Hermione Granger.

After reveling in the surprise on Malfoy's face when he realised his plan had failed, Harry had filled Ron and Elizabeth in about a package that Hagrid had removed from Gringotts' vault seven hundred and thirteen on his birthday. The three of them discussed the possibility of the three-headed dog guarding it in hushed voices so that nobody knew they had broken the rules by entering the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side, especially Draco Malfoy, in case he was looking for any reason to get them all expelled still. Of course, none of them knew what was inside that package, but Elizabeth didn't care. She just liked having another person around besides Ron and the twins. There was nothing wrong with putting up with Ron. In fact, Elizabeth was used to him, but she enjoyed having other people to talk with as well. Ones who preferably had working brain cells and weren't going to throw her shoes up a tree.

With school life improving without Hermione around, the three of them sought to get back at Malfoy for his devious plan gone awry and their opportunity came about a week later in with the usual post. Six large screech owls flew in carrying a long, thin package. Elizabeth was distracted from watching the owls when a letter dropped into her lap. She looked up to see her grandfather's owl, Odysseus, flying away. She noticed her full name in the same writing as Richard's letter.

The large package dropped right in front of Harry and Elizabeth jumped in her seat at the noise. Another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel, which Harry opened first. He was grinning as he handed the note to Ron.

"Well?" asked Elizabeth. "What's it say? Come on, I wanna know too."

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron groaned enviously.

"No way!" Elizabeth said. "That's a great broom. Best model on the market."

They wanted to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, so they rushed from the Gryffindor table without finishing their breakfast, but only made it halfway across the entrance hall when Malfoy seised the package from Harry.

A broomstick," said Malfoy. "You'll be in for it now, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

"Give it back, Draco." Elizabeth grabbed the broom Malfoy and handed it back to Harry.

"It's not any old broomstick," said Ron. "It's Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry.

Elizabeth knew that he was taunting Malfoy, but let it go. He deserved it, after all.

"Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus," said Ron.

Elizabeth knew from having to listen to Ron ramble on about the different brooms he would buy if he had the money that the Nimbus Two Thousand was the best broom on the market. It was fast, it could turn on a dime, and it handled beautifully, which explained why Ron went on and on about it like it was made of solid gold and made the rider invincible. All the professional Quidditch players rode them and Elizabeth knew Malfoy was jealous that Harry had one when he didn't.

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped.

Elizabeth had just pulled out her wand when Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing again, I hope, Miss Wellington," he squeaked.

Elizabeth hid her wand behind her back. "No, Professor. I was just showing Draco here my wand."

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy.

She couldn't wait for Professor Flitwick to be out of sight so she could hex Malfoy for being such a tattler that even her grandmother would disapprove of how often he ran crying to authority figures rather than simply minding his own business.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

Malfoy looked positively horrified. Elizabeth would have liked to have a camera on her at that moment to capture his expression and taunt him with it later.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it."

Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth headed upstairs as Malfoy stood stunned in the entrance hall. Before she reached the top of the staircase, Elizabeth spotted Richard heading out of the Great Hall.

"You guys go on," she said to Ron and Harry. "I'll only be a minute."

"Fine," Ron said, " but we're not waiting for you."

She brushed Ron off and rushed down the stairs to catch up with Richard. He spun around quickly with his wand pointed at her after she grabbed his robes. He lowered his wand with a sigh when he saw her.

"Good Merlin, Elizabeth Ann, what has Gran told you about sneaking up on people?"

"But I wasn't sneaking up on you."

"What do you want?"

"Guess what I have?"

"Detention? If it's detention, you better not let Gran find out."

Richard was always going on about what their grandmother said when talking to Elizabeth. Everything was a reminder of rules Margaret had set and what she would do if she found Elizabeth blatantly disobeying her. She found it rather obnoxious of him and would constantly remind him that as much as he likes to bring up what their grandmother had told them, he is not their grandmother and therefore she doesn't have to listen to him. This never seemed to deter him.

"No," she said as she reached into her bag to retrieve the letter. "I got a letter."

"Don't say got, Elizabeth Ann. Gran would have a right fit. You _received_ a letter." He took it from her as she held it out for him. "Not that I care who's writing you."

"You might care about this." She grabbed the envelope back and opened the letter to show Richard the signature. "Right there," she pointed out. "He wrote me too."

Richard seemed unaffected and shoved the letter back at Elizabeth. "So what? He only sent you that because I told him you were upset he didn't write you when he wrote me."

"Nuh uh, you're lying."

He bumped her with his arm as he walked away. "Believe what you want, Elizabeth Ann." Elizabeth stood in the middle of the entrance hall reading over the letter in her hands. "Make sure you're not late for your lessons," he called back to her. "You'll lose House points if you're tardy."

She couldn't move until she had finished rereading it. She was so upset at Richard diminishing the importance of her letter that she didn't even care about seeing Harry's new broom anymore. She rushed back upstairs and ran passed Harry and Ron, whom were talking to a very angry-looking Hermione. She just felt like getting back to her dormitory to be alone for a while.

She nearly burst through the door to the first year girls' room and threw her bag on the ground. She opened up the letter again as she sat down on the edge of her bed. Her eyes lingered on the signature and she hoped Richard was just being a git again. The door flew open again and Hermione came rushing in, still looking angry. Elizabeth quickly shoved the letter under her pillow.

"Yelling at Ron and Harry again?" she asked.

"I'm still not talking to any of you," Hermione said.

Elizabeth was confused. "But you just talked to all three of us."

Hermione looked even angrier as she gathered her books and stormed out of the room similar to the way she stormed in. Elizabeth didn't understand how a person could be so uptight and miserable all the time, and she lived with Margaret Wellington. As if having to share a room with Hermione wasn't bad enough while she was still mad at her, Elizabeth found it hard to focus all day with Richard and the letter on her mind. She had to hand it to him, he had a knack for getting under her skin.

Harry and Ron had not forgotten about the broom, though, and they inhaled their dinners that evening in order to return to their dormitory and check it out. They practically bolted from the table once they had finished their meals, leaving Elizabeth to stumble out of her seat and spill her drink on her robes trying to catch up with them.

"Wait for me!" Elizabeth ran after Ron and Harry. "I want to see the broom too."

"You can't come with us," said Ron.

"Why not?"

"Because we're going to the _boys_ dormitory. You're a girl. You're not allowed up there."

"They allow you up there, don't they?"

"You can't come, Liz, and that's final. Why don't you go make friends with Hermione?"

Elizabeth was crushed. Never before had Ron ever excluded her from something for any reason. He usually included her in things she had no desire to be included in, such as Quidditch discussions and wizard chess. She was always allowed to do whatever it was he was doing before they came to school. Ever since he met Harry, however, he wanted little to do with her and although she always claimed she never liked Ron Weasley, that didn't mean she wanted him to stop being friends with her.

"Come on, Ron," said Harry. "Just let her see it."

"No, Harry, it's okay." Elizabeth tried to hide the fact she was upset. "If you two want to exclude me just because you're mad at Hermione, Ron, then fine. I hope you two will have plenty of fun with your broomsticks and 'boys only' activities."

She stormed out of the Great Hall without another word to either of them. She felt like going to bed and not getting up for a week. She was used to rude comments from Richard, because she knew he really didn't mean anything by it other than to be an annoying older brother, but Ron was different.

As she made her way up the stairs and down the corridor she felt like she was being followed.

She clenched her fists as she quickened her pace to lose him. "I want nothing to do with you, Ron Weasley."

"Don't talk to me," Ron spat. "_I_ want nothing to do with _you_."

She gripped her wand in her hand and stopped abruptly stopped to face him. She was a good head shorter than him at least, but size never stopped Elizabeth from standing up to anybody. "If you want to be mad at Hermione, that's fine, but don't take it out on me because you're a git."

"You're just like her now. You and her were trying to get us in trouble. You're always nagging me. You keep telling me to do my coursework."

"We tried to stop you two from getting in trouble, but _you_ wouldn't listen!"

"You're acting just like her now!"

"And you're acting like an idiot." She turned to look at Harry. "Both of you."

"Liz, if you want to see the broomstick you can," said Harry.

"No, I don't need you to be nice to me," said Elizabeth, silently seething. "And I don't care about your stupid broom, so you can just shove off!"

She raced off towards the common room with them not far behind. None of them spoke until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig snout," Elizabeth said. The portrait swung open and Ron pushed past her to rush inside. "Bleeder!"

She was in no mood for decency. She was furious at Ron for thinking that befriending the famous Harry Potter gave him any right to treat her like that when she was truly his first friend in life. All she wanted to do was knock some sense into Ron, literally.

She turned her rage on Harry, who was standing behind her staring. "What are you looking at, Potter?"

"Nothing," Harry said softly.

She rushed up to her dormitory and was pleased to find that she was the only one there. Everyone else was still at dinner and wouldn't be back for a bit so she decided it was better to lay down while she could before Hermione Granger came back. She may have been giving Elizabeth the silent treatment, but she certainly wasn't silent about how she did it.

As she laid down on her bed, her hand came into contact with parchment as she slid it under the pillow she rested her head on. She pulled the letter out from underneath it. On the bottom, there was a small poorly scribbled name she read aloud.

"_Yours truly, Claudiu_s." She put the letter down.

Claudius Billows wasn't even ten years older than Richard from what Margaret said. William had met him from he had just graduated from Hogwarts and he had to be in his early, maybe mid twenties by now, she thought. All she was sure of was he was nearly a decade younger than William and her grandmother highly disapproved of him. Richard and Elizabeth were quite fond of him though and William used to bring him home all the time. They were fairly inseparable until about five months ago, right before Richard came home for the summer, when Margaret got in a fueled argument with Claudius over William and banished him from the house. When William refused to go with Claudius, Claudius stormed out and the two of them hadn't spoke since.

He was from a pure-blood family, but not even that could make Margaret like him more. Elizabeth described him as being a bit of a stumpy young man with handwriting like owl scratch and habit of putting his feet on the coffee table. Margaret never stood for that either. She also never understood what appeared to be his desperate aversion to any clothing with a neckline. She had bought him a jumper for his birthday one year and he managed to wear it for all of an hour before he ripped the neckline at the sides so the jumper rested on his shoulders. Margaret was more so concerned at his behaviour than she was furious, but that faded the next time he showed up wearing it and she flew off the handle.

Elizabeth reread the one line of the letter that been stuck in her mind since her encounter with Richard earlier that day.

"_Richard had told me you were sorted into Gryffindor like your uncle_."

She reluctantly got up from her bed and grabbed a book and quill from her bag to pen her response.

Claudius had been a Hufflepuff, which only gave Margaret another reason not to like him. He was a quiet person, but when he did speak he had a raspy voice and always finished his sentences with a smile. He was a terribly picky eater and he lived off a steady diet of various cheeses and toast. Margaret was simply annoyed that no matter what she cooked, he simply didn't eat it. She found this rude, but Elizabeth clearly remembered he would try everything she gave him, he would just vomit it up later. William said he had a sensitive stomach, but Margaret called this rubbish. Elizabeth thought he was a kind soul, who was concerned with always pleasing those around him, and he really cared about her uncle, which she found a shame, since William didn't seem to care whether Claudius was in his life or not.

She finished her response and promptly headed to the Owlery before dinner was over and her roommates came back. The night air was chilling and the smell of owl droppings became more potent as she approached the entrance. Nearly all the owls were still asleep, although quite a few were waking up for the evening, such as Telemachus, who was surprisingly quiet for a change. He was trying to balance on a bone left on the floor, but kept falling backwards. He ruffled his feathers and gripped the bone, managing not to fall off this time. She bent down and pet him on his head as he closed his big yellow eyes.

"Maybe Richard is right, all you need is a little encouragement."

Elizabeth plucked him off the bone to attach the letter to him, a decision she regretted immediately when he started squawking and the noise caused a wave of hoots and screeches throughout the Owlery. Eager to stop the sound, Elizabeth quickly threw Telemachus out one of the windows. She knew if Richard were there, he would have scolded her for being so rough with him, but just like before, he found a low, yet steady height to fly at and she watched him carry her letter out of sight.

Two weeks had gone by and she hadn't spoken a word to Ron since their fight. Hermione was still giving her the cold shoulder and the only interaction she had with Harry was when she dropped her quill last week in Charms and he picked it up for her. She wasn't even mad at Ron anymore, she just refused to speak to him until he apologised to her, but she knew with how hardheaded Ron was, she could forget about that ever happening.

However, since school started she had met friends of her own and people in the similar family situations. She was surprised at the number of students whose parents had been killed during the war like hers, or in Neville's case, turned into permanent residents at St. Mungo's with no chance of ever recovering. She didn't know what was worse, having your parents be killed and never getting to know them, or having them suffer in a hospital never getting to know you. Either way, none of them wanted it to be how it was, but it was comforting to know she wasn't a minority.

Elizabeth had grown most fond of Neville out of all her new friends in Gryffindor. He was bumbling and a bit of a mess, but she liked his sincerity and his kindness. She related to him living with his grandmother, but she seemed to be different from Margaret based on what he said. Margaret and Thomas were more like Elizabeth's surrogate parents and Neville's Gran was still clearly his grandmother and more of a guardian than a replacement parent. Elizabeth seemed to prefer her situation the more they talked about it, as Neville appeared not to have a large family and he certainly didn't have anyone like William around to be involved in his life.

She had been sitting with Fred and George during meals. She found she had little option since Hermione had taken to sitting with Neville at meals and Elizabeth wasn't about to go sit with Lavender and Parvati. The twins were more than happy to have her around, which would have normally made her suspicious, but now she couldn't afford to be. That didn't mean she enjoyed her time with them. Sometimes they would sit with Oliver Wood and discuss Quidditch, which she was used to with Ron, but talking about it bored her more than Professor Binns' class.

"That Quidditch cup'll have our name on it this year," said Oliver.

Elizabeth could predict everything he was going to say at that point, because all he did was say the same things over and over. She didn't know if he simply didn't realise it, or he really thought if he said it enough, it would come true. Either way, she would have preferred to sit with her own friends, but Ron would never let her hear the end of it if she apologised and Hermione didn't even deserve an apology. She could acknowledge that calling Ron names was inappropriate, but Hermione Granger constantly invited herself into conversations she had no business being involved in and Elizabeth was not going let her think for one second they were actually friends.

Feeling the conversation was going nowhere for another night in a row, Elizabeth left dinner early to get back to the common room and finish her coursework. She didn't so much as glance at Ron as she passed him on her way out, but she checked back over her shoulder as she left the Great Hall to see he wasn't far behind her with Harry at his side.

"What're you doing?" she asked. "Since when do you leave a meal early?"

"Don't talk to her, Harry," said Ron. "She's not worth your time."

"If anyone is a waste of time, it's _you_, Ron Weasley." She stopped to face him. "You're impossible to deal with."

"And you've lost your mind!"

"If only you let me see the stupid broom, I wouldn't have yelled at you."

She could see Ron's face start to turn slightly red. "I don't need you." He walked away. "Come on, Harry."

Elizabeth didn't turn to watch as they passed her. "You just wait and see how much you don't need me when you're stuck on your coursework."

She heard Ron's footsteps stop immediately. "You wouldn't," he said.

Elizabeth snapped around. "I would and I will. I've seen you struggling on your Transfiguration coursework. Who's going to help you? _Hermione_?"

"Fine, but that doesn't mean I like you, or anything."

Elizabeth didn't do anything, but stand with a smug look on her face.

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter Ten, Halloween pages 163 to 166.


	10. Chapter Nine

By Halloween, things between Elizabeth and Ron had returned to normal. They were constantly bickering, but she was right, he came running to her with Potions coursework not two days after they agreed to speak again. Ron always needed her help, even when they were younger. He wasn't very bright, she had to admit, but it never bothered her. Whenever Fred and George would tell him something, most of the time to scare him, she would always pull out a book and prove them wrong. Of course, she had to often do the same to him when he was dead certain he was right and she knew for a fact he wasn't. Ever since school started this year, he had been coming to her for help with coursework. She was fairly certain he could do it himself, if he ever cracked a book, but for some reason she liked being needed. That, and it was easy to hang over his head when she wanted him to stop being stubborn.

On the bright side, Professor Flitwick had announced in Charms that they were ready to start making objects fly. Elizabeth was familiar with object levitation. Her grandfather used the spell on books all the time in the shop when they were too heavy for Richard to lift, or they were on a shelf too high for Elizabeth to reach on the ladder. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practise with a feather. Harry had wound up with Seamus Finnigan, who didn't make his feather fly, but instead set it on fire. Elizabeth had been paired with Neville and she would have rather been paired with Seamus after she quickly found out that Neville was highly incompetent when it came to magic.

"Just have a go, it's not that hard," she said.

"I can't," said Neville. "I'm no good at magic."

"Rubbish, you just have to be confident." She tried to raise his spirits. "Watch." She flicked her wand and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" The feather rose off the desk and hovered in the air above their heads.

"Oh, well done, Miss Wellington!" said Professor Flitwick.

Across the room Ron was paired with Hermione, who was looking particularly sour that Elizabeth had gotten it before her, as she liked to be the first to succeed at everything. Hermione was so snobbish that she couldn't stand not being the best at magic, like it was a competition.

"So what?" said Hermione arrogantly. "Anyone could get such an easy spell."

Obviously not, because Ron wasn't having any luck with their feather. Hermione must have been having a bad morning because she got angry at for him for not getting it.

"You're saying it wrong," she snapped. "It's Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

Hermione flicked her wand and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" Their feather had rose up just like Elizabeth's had.

"Oh, Miss Granger has done it too!" said Professor Flitwick, clapping.

By the time they left Charms, Ron was in a very bad mood. "It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said.

"Ron!" Elizabeth scolded him. "Don't say that so loud."

"Why not? She's a nightmare, honestly. I feel sorry for you that you have to share a room with her."

Someone had knocked into Harry as they hurried passed him. They briefly saw Hermione as she ran down the corridor in tears.

"I think she heard you," said Harry.

"So?" said Ron. "She must've noticed she's got no friends."

"You have no regard for others, do you?" said Elizabeth.

"You don't like her either."

"That doesn't give you the right to say such things."

"If you care so much why don't you go comfort her then?"

"Because you're the one who made her cry."

Ron looked uncomfortable being told this, but it was the truth. Elizabeth couldn't hide her dislike for Hermione, but she never wanted to hurt her. She just wanted her to leave them all alone and thanks to Ron, it seemed like she would get her wish.

Hermione didn't show up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. Elizabeth was beginning to worry about her, especially since Hermione was not the type to miss a lesson. Ron and Harry couldn't have cared less about her and what happened earlier. They were busy enjoying the Halloween feast when Elizabeth entered the Great Hall and took a seat at Gryffindor table with them.

"I'll have you know that Parvati just informed me that Hermione is in the girls' toilets crying and wants to be left alone."

"Then leave her alone," said Ron.

Elizabeth was just about to yell at him when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall. He ran up to Dumbledore and gasped, "Troll ─ in the dungeons ─ thought you ought to know." He sank to the floor in a dead faint.

"What kind of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher faints over a troll?" asked Elizabeth, but her question was drowned out by the sound of students bursting into a panic.

The whole hall was in an uproar. It took several firecrackers exploding from Dumbledore's wand to bring silence. "Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element. "Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

He was so smug, just like Hermione.

"Oh, no, Hermione!" gasped Elizabeth.

"What about her?" said Ron.

"She's still in the girls' toilet."

"So?"

"Ron, what happens if the troll finds her? Do you seriously want her to get killed? You're the reason she's in this mess in the first place."

"She can take care of herself."

"Ronald Weasley, you are in for a world of hurt if you don't go warn her. There is a troll running around the school and she's in serious danger. Now, you better go save her before I tell your mother on you." Elizabeth then remembered that entrusting Ron with Hermione's life was not the best idea. "All right, Harry and I save her, but you're coming with us."

"Fine, but Percy'd better not see us. I don't want to get in trouble."

"You don't want to get in trouble? Where was this attitude of yours when you agreed to duel Malfoy?"

Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth shuffled in with the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom. They had just turned a corner when they heard footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry and Elizabeth behind a large stone griffin.

Peering around it they saw Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me," said Ron.

"Come on, you two," said Elizabeth.

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor. Ron stopped them.

"Can you smell something?" he said.

There was a foul stench of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

Elizabeth retched. "I think I just threw up in my mouth a little."

Ron hushed her. They heard a low grunting and the shuffling of gigantic feet. At the end of a passageway to the left, something was moving toward them. They shrank back into the shadows and watched it emerge. It was twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. Elizabeth held her breath. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. Elizabeth was horrified when it slouched slowly into the room. It was in the girls' toilet.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

"Bad idea," said Elizabeth. "That's the girls' toilet. You'd be locking it in there with Hermione."

They were as pale as ghosts when they heard a petrified scream. Without thinking they rushed into the toilet. Hermione was shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if she was about to faint. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately.

Elizabeth racked her brain for any spell to stop the troll. "_Oppungo!_" she shouted.

All the taps that had been knocked off the wall began hurling themselves at the troll. After the last tap fell to the ground, the troll turned on Elizabeth and went for her instead, lifting its club as it went. She shrunk back against the wall. Suddenly she remembered something mentioned in William's book.

"_Incarcerous!_" she said, shakily pointing her wand at the troll as chains fired out of it, wrapping around the troll and causing it to fall with a loud boom that shook the ground. It dropped it's club as its cries echoed through the bathroom.

Ron had pulled out his wand and said the first spell that came to mind.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

The club that the troll had dropped rose high into the air, turned slowly over, and dropped, with a sickening crack onto the troll's head. The troll fell silent.

Elizabeth fell to her knees, shaking. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

"Is it ─ dead?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. They hadn't realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crash and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell after him. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Elizabeth couldn't believe him. He was such a coward. She had almost gotten beaten to death by the troll and she was holding up better than Professor Quirrell. Her heart was beating out of her chest and her breathing was rapid, but at least she wasn't afraid of it when it was passed out like he was.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Elizabeth looked up at her. She had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white and she was sure all four of them were in the worst trouble of their lives. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Elizabeth was speechless. She was too shocked by what has just transpired to say anything. Normally, she would have said anything to defend them, but now she just couldn't.

"Please, Professor McGonagall ─ they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet. "I went looking for the troll because I ─ I thought I could deal with on my own ─ you know, because I've read all about them."

Elizabeth was astounded. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now."

Snape bent over the troll. "Where did the chains come from?" he said, his voice sounding a bit more sinister than usual to Elizabeth.

"I did it," Elizabeth admitted, hanging her head, expecting to be in expelled. "I knocked it out too. Harry and Ron didn't have anything to do with it. They shouldn't be punished."

Harry and Ron tried to look as though this story wasn't new to them.

"Well ─ in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head. She was the last person to do anything against the rules, and here she was, pretending she had, to get them out of trouble. It was as if Snape had started handing out sweets.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll."

Elizabeth had finally found the strength to stand and rose silently to await punishment. Surely McGonagall would be writing home to her grandmother about this one and once Margaret was done sending nasty letters about the amount of trouble she would be in at Christmas, Richard would no doubt be nagging her that he told her countless times to stay out of trouble this year and instead she went looking for it. Richard was beginning to be more annoying at school than he was at home.

"You will each win Gryffindor five points," Professor McGonagall said. "Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You all may go."

They hurried out of the chamber like scared little mice and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up.

"You know, you'd think that for knocking that thing out we wouldn't be in trouble," said Elizabeth.

"And we'd get more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's," said Harry.

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we did save her."

"Because I made you," Elizabeth reminded him. "She wouldn't had needed saving if you didn't upset her though."

Ron still seemed reluctant to accept what he had done earlier, but Elizabeth was in no mood to make such a deal out of it at that moment. There was plenty of time for that later.

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Pig snout," they said and entered.

The common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating their food that had been sent up. Hermione stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.

From that moment on, whether they always liked it or not, Hermione Granger became their friend.

As they entered November there were many noticeable changes. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Winter was definitely approaching. Elizabeth had always hated winter for a number of reasons. She couldn't stand the cold, the snow was a nightmare, and everything seemed so drab, like life was just dull and unexciting. The year was almost at an end too. She always felt so pessimistic at the end of the year and only reflected on all the bad things that had happened. She never felt happy again when the new year came around either.

Hermione had become more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. Professor McGonagall seemed nicer too, or at least a tiny bit impressed with them. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and Hermione had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. Elizabeth had decided to let Hermione do the magic outside of class, as long as she admitted that Elizabeth was an equally talent witch. She was reluctant to do so, but eventually complied after being reminded of Halloween once more for good measure.

They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard, limping. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was _Quidditch Through the Ages_, the book Hermione had taken out of the library before their first flying lesson. She had lent it to him, thinking it would help prepare him for his first match. Harry showed Snape the book.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me."

"You've just made that rule up," said Elizabeth. "I see students do it all the time."

"Five points from Gryffindor."

"Fine, we'll just go ask Madam Pince. She'd love to know you're nicking library books from students."

Snape snarled. He shoved the book back at Harry and limped away.

"One of these days, Elizabeth, you're going to get in serious trouble for talking to professors that way," said Hermione.

"It's just Snape," said Elizabeth. "What's he gonna do that he doesn't already? Wonder what's wrong with his leg, though."

"Potions accident?" suggested Ron.

"I highly doubt that," said Hermione.

"You think it was that dog?" Harry inquired. "Maybe he's after what it's guarding."

"He wouldn't," said Hermione. "He wouldn't try to steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I wouldn't put it past him."

"If that's true, and he did try to get past the dog," said Elizabeth thinking for a moment, "then what's he after?"

That night after dinner, Elizabeth got a very unexpected visit to the common room window. It was Telemachus, struggling to fly, with a little box attached to his leg. She opened the window for him and he rolled right onto the ledge, off it, and landed right on the common room floor, squawking, as usual.

She bent down to get the box. "You're a right mess there, bird," she said to the little owl, who was rolling back and forth to get up.

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"That's Telemachus. He's my brother's feather duster." She picked him up and set him down so he was on his feet.

"Not that," Ron said. "The box."

"I don't know. Something for me I assume. Guess Pudgy here didn't make it in time for the post this morning." She pet Telemachus on the head before picking him up and throwing him out the window. It was becoming a terrible habit of hers. She waited to make sure he was flying and then closed the window behind him. She sat down in one of the armchairs across from Ron and Harry with the box.

"Who's it from?" Harry asked.

Elizabeth looked it over and found on the bottom a poorly scribbled name. "_Claudius_," she read. "My uncle's friend Claudius. Ron, you remember him." Ron had a blank look on his face. "Stumpy little man, shaggy hair, blue eyes," she described, but Ron just blankly stared at her. "Claudius. My uncle's _friend_ Claudius. Short man, raspy voice." Ron shook his head. "Ripped his jumpers at the neck."

"That nutter!" Ron exclaimed.

"He works in the Ministry now in the Department of International Magic Cooperation, International Magical Office of Law, you know."

"Your looney uncle get him that job?" Ron snorted.

"You be quiet," Elizabeth snapped and opened the box.

"Well, what is it?"

Elizabeth stared curiously at the object. She pulled it out of the box. "It's a key," she said simply.

"What for?" Ron asked.

Elizabeth turned the box over, looking for any explanation. "It doesn't say. It's just a key."

"Great, now he's as daft as your uncle."

Elizabeth just ignored him. She was holding in her hand a small gold key that looked far too small to open a door, but too big for a chest or music box. It was highly peculiar of Claudius to send her things out of the blue like that, and without any explanation at all. As much as she was trying to avoid Richard since the incident on Halloween, to skip the inevitable lecture about responsibility that he was surely preparing for her, she thought if she wanted answers to what the key opened, he was her only option to ask at the moment. She just dreaded the thought of having to turn to him. He was also so smug when she needed his help.

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter Ten, Halloween pages 170 to 179, and chapter Eleven, Quidditch, pages 180 to 182.

I figured that while oppungo is defined by the encyclopedia of spells to be: causes conjured creatures under the control of the caster to attack the target. But none of the mobil spells seemed well, violent enough, although oppungo is not really that violent. I'm not sure why inanimate objects could not be animated by this spell as well to attack someone or something so I thought I'd give it a try.


	11. Chapter Ten

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. It was Harry's first Quidditch match and while Elizabeth wanted to be to be excited for him, she just couldn't bring herself to be happy. She had spent all morning looking for Richard, but hadn't seen him once, not even at breakfast. The key was the only thing on her mind. She spent all night trying to think of something small enough, yet not too small, that it would possibly open, but she had come up with nothing. Richard's mysterious absence just made her more anxious about figuring out the use of the key. If there was one thing that annoyed Elizabeth more than anything, it was an unsolved puzzle. She had the piece, she just needed to find out where to put it.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had made a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. Dean drew a large Gryffindor lion on it to support the House team. He was a very good artist. Elizabeth taught Hermione a charm to make the paint flash different colours. They used it all the time at the bookshop when Thomas made signs for promotional sales and events. Hermione used it on the banner.

"I really hope he catches the snitch," said Hermione.

"Of course he will," said Ron.

"Well, he'd better," said Elizabeth. "Wood will probably kill him if he doesn't. I just wish they weren't playing Slytherin for his first match. They're such cheaters."

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand. They cheered loudly as the Gryffindor team walked onto to the field. Both teams mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and fifteen brooms rose up high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor ─ what an excellent Chaser that girl is and rather attractive too ─"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Lee Jordan was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve ─ back to Johnson and ─ no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes ─ Flint flying like an eagle up there ─ he's going to sc─ no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle ─ that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and ─ OUCH ─ that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger."

"Oi, Fred and George, do your jobs!" yelled Elizabeth from the stands. She was really enjoying this. She rather liked a decent game of Quidditch, even if she didn't like listening to people talk about it. She much preferred the action and it was briefly keeping her mind off the key and Richard. The match was going well enough that she was quite involved and she thought Lee Jordan's commentary was actually kind of funny.

"Quaffle taken by the Slytherins ─ that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger ─ sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which ─ nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes ─ she's really flying ─ dodges a speeding Bludger ─ the goal posts are ahead ─ come on, now, Angelina ─ Keeper Bletchley dives ─ misses ─ GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'" said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at Harry.

Harry was gliding over the game, looking for any sign of the Snitch. Elizabeth thought he looked rather bored just flying around up there.

"Slytherin in possession," said Lee Jordan, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the ─ wait a moment ─ was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd. Harry dove downward after the streak of gold. He was neck and neck with Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs. Harry was faster than him though and took the lead. All the Chasers stopped what they were doing and hung in midair to watch. Harry was gaining on the Snitch until ─

WHAM! A roar echoed from the Gryffindors below ─ Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and his broom spun off course, with Harry holding on for dear life.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor.

"Send him off, ref!" yelled Dean Thomas. "Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" Ron asked.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In football you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"This isn't football, Dean, it's Quidditch," Elizabeth reminded him. "The ref can't remove a player from the field because of foul play."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I didn't make the rules, I just know them. All she can do to Flint for blatching is ─"

"What?"

"Blatching. It's a foul. Flying with intent to collide with another player. That's what Flint just did."

"They oughta change the rules," said Hagrid. He was on Dean's side. "Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

While Elizabeth wanted to agree simply because it had been Harry that was almost hurt, she knew she couldn't. If it had been anybody else that Marcus Flint had blocked then she wouldn't care. Unlike Elizabeth, Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So ─ after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating ─"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul ─"

"_Jordan, I'm warning you_ ─"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession ─ no, now Slytherin in possession ─ Flint with the Quaffle ─ passes Spinnet ─ passes Bell ─ hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose ─ only joking, Professor ─ Slytherins score ─ oh no..."

The Slytherins were cheering, while the Gryffindors booed. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing." Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn' know better, I'd say he'd lost control of his broom... but he can't have..."

Elizabeth was watching Harry zigzag through the air, almost falling off his broom.

"Give me that." Elizabeth grabbed the binoculars from Hagrid and peered through them.

Harry's broom started to roll over and then wildly jerked, swinging him off it. He was dangling from it, holding on with one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"Couldn't have." Elizabeth gave Hagrid back his binoculars. "Nothing can interfere with a broomstick except... but that can't be the case."

"It has to be," said Hagrid. "No kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

"But who could use Dark magic powerful enough to do that?" said Elizabeth.

At the words 'Dark magic,' Hermione seised Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape ─ look."

She held the binoculars in front of Elizabeth for her to look. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and he was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something ─ jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?" said Ron.

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Elizabeth watched with Hagrid's binoculars.

"What does she think she's doing?" Elizabeth said as Hermione was sneaking along the row behind Snape.

She had knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. While everyone was distracted by him, she snuck behind Snape, crouched down, and set his robes on fire.

"I don't believe it," Elizabeth said with a giggle. "She's set Snape on fire."

Hagrid snatched the binoculars. Snape had now noticed his robes were ablaze and let out a loud yelp. Hermione scooped up the fire off him into a little jar and into her pocket. She scrambled back along the back row to her seat.

"There goes Harry," Ron said.

When Hermione got back, Harry was speeding towards the ground.

"He looks like he's gonna be sick," Ron added.

And so he did. He hit the field on all fours, coughed, and something gold fell into his hand.

"Is that ─ that the Snitch?" said Ron confused.

"He caught it!" said Elizabeth.

"He didn't _catch_ it, he nearly _swallowed_ it," said Ron.

"It doesn't matter," said Elizabeth. "He didn't break any rules and Gryffindor won. Be happy for once."

They were all having tea back in Hagrid's hut.

"I'm just glad I didn't get killed," said Harry.

"No thanks to Snape," said Ron. "Hermione, Liz, and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

The four of them exchanged glances.

"Hagrid," said Elizabeth, "we have reason to believe that Snape tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween and it bit him. We think he's trying to steal what it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot. "How do you know about Fluffy?"

"_Fluffy?_" they said in unison.

"Yeah, he's mine ─ bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year."

"Aha! I knew it was Greek," Elizabeth said to Ron.

"Hush up," said Ron.

"I lent Fluffy to Dumbledore to guard the ─"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

If any one of them wanted to know what that dog was guarding the most, it was Harry.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to _steal_ it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

Elizabeth wanted to believe that, but it obviously wasn't true. She had seen him jinx Harry's broom at the match with her own eyes. She was sure he was up to something.

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione. She seemed to have changed her mind about Snape. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I hate to admit it, but Hermione's right," said Elizabeth. "You know I know Dark magic when I see it and Snape was definitely doing Dark magic."

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh ─ yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel ─"

"Aha!" said Harry," so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself. Elizabeth didn't know anything about this Nicolas Flamel, but she wasn't concerned with that. Hagrid was so insistent on Snape's innocence. She knew Hagrid wouldn't lie, but then again Snape was a cruel, bitter man. She didn't know what to believe.

By mid-November things seemed to have quieted down. There were no more mountain trolls, or broomstick mishaps. Snape's leg had healed, but Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth had not forgotten about him trying to get past the three-headed dog. Elizabeth had taken to watching Snape more carefully. He must have noticed because he was sure not to give her any reason to be suspicious. That only made her more untrusting of him.

He was drawling on in Potions one day. Elizabeth hadn't been listening, she was absentmindedly scribbling on her parchment instead of taking notes like she should have been.

"Wellington!"

"What?" said Elizabeth at the sound of her name. She looked up from her parchment.

"The answer to my question, Miss Wellington," said Professor Snape. "Tell me."

"Um..."

"Weren't paying attention again? Tsk, tsk. Five points from Gryffindor."

"Fine," mumbled Elizabeth, going back to her drawing.

"The answer is the Elixir of Life," said Snape. "Wellington, redeem yourself ─ what does the Elixir of Life do?"

She looked up again. "It prolongs the life of the drinker for as long as they take it."

"So, you are not a complete waste of a witch after all. How is it made?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth admitted.

"So quick to prove me wrong. How disappointing."

She was fed up with Snape, with Potions, and with school in general. "I don't know how you take a rock and get the Elixir of Life out of it. Who knows if it even exists anymore."

"At least your answer wasn't completely wrong," said Snape moving on with the lesson.

"Completely wrong?"

"Five points from Gryffindor for wasting my time, Miss Wellington."

Elizabeth grumbled to herself as Snape moved on to berating the other Gryffindors.

"What does he mean _completely_ wrong?"

At dinner that night Elizabeth was still hung up on the Potions lesson from that morning. It had been bothering her all day.

"Would you just let it go?" Ron moaned. "You've spent all day asking the same question. Who cares?"

"I do," said Elizabeth. "What part of it was wrong?"

"Just get over it. You were wrong for once. Life will go on."

"Shut it. I just don't get why he was asking about the Elixir of Life when it has absolutely nothing to do with what we're studying."

She looked over to the High table where Snape was seated. His face was in a permanent scowl. Elizabeth was wondering if you make a certain facial expression for long enough, if your face really can get stuck that way, and if that's what happened to Snape.

"He was just trying to get you to pay attention," said Hermione. "Before he noticed you drawing instead of taking notes he was telling us about a forgetfulness potion. It was a very riveting lecture."

Elizabeth looked curiously at Hermione. "Did you just use the word riveting? Who says that?"

"My parents do," said Hermione.

"Are your parents riveters?" said Elizabeth.

"No, my parents are dentists."

Elizabeth saw the irony in this. Hermione's parents are dentists, yet her teeth could easily be compared to that of a beaver.

"Okay then." Elizabeth tried to contain her laughter.

"What do your grandparents do?" Hermione asked. She knew that Elizabeth's parents had died a long time ago and she didn't like talking about it.

"My grandfather runs Flourish & Blotts, and my grandmother is Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic."

"That must be fascinating!" said Hermione, intrigued by this bit of information. "I've read about the positions in the Ministry and that job seems highly satisfying."

"No, not really," said Elizabeth. "It's a tedious job for old, stuffy people, which is why my grandmother holds it. Frankly, it's boring."

"I disagree. I bet it's exciting."

"Hermione, I repeat, it's a _tedious_ job for _old, stuffy people_. It's not exciting at all. It's quite possibly one of the most dull jobs in the Ministry. The only position that I've seen which is more boring, besides Junior Undersecretary, is working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. No offence, Ron."

Ron's ears went pink. Mr. Weasley worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement like her uncle, but his job was nowhere near as involved in magical law enforcement and was seen as rather unimportant. He didn't make much money, but he enjoyed it. He learned a great deal about Muggles that way.

"What's your uncle do, Liz?" said Harry, who had developed an unusual interest in the mysterious man. Elizabeth had stopped talking about him, but it didn't do any good. Ron liked to taunt her a fair deal about his eccentricities, but no one had more to say than Draco Malfoy when he wanted to be a right prat and he sure wanted to be that a lot.

"He works in the Ministry," Elizabeth said uncomfortably.

"Doing what?"

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Improper Use of Magic Office," she lied.

Elizabeth's grandmother had always told anyone who asked about William that that's what he did. She told them he worked in the Improper Use of Magic Office, which was a joke, because if anyone improperly used magic, it was William. She didn't do this because she was ashamed of him being an Auror, it was the only thing Elizabeth ever heard her praise about William, she just did not want to expose him if a dark witch or wizard was listening. Tipping a dark wizard off about who some of the Aurors are would not be wise. Margaret was sure that dark wizards convened in the shady Knockturn Alley where there were plenty of Dark Arts material for sale, and with it being such a close distance from Diagon Alley, she took precautions when it came to talking about anything related to the Ministry.

"My–my parents used to work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, International Confederation of Wizards. My dad in the British seats, my mum in the French." She said this all very fast and ended by clearing her throat. "But, ehm, they're dead now. That–that's where Claudius works. Well, in the International Magical Office of Law."

"You said that already," Ron said.

"Oh," Elizabeth said timidly and went back to her dinner.

They finished the rest of their dinner in silence. Walking out of the Great Hall, she caught sight of Snape walking back towards the dungeons. He was looking extra sour this evening and she couldn't help but wonder what he was up to now.

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter Eleven, Quidditch, pages 183 to 193.

Lee Jordan's commentary in chapter eleven remains my favourite part in Philosopher's Stone, therefore I wanted to include it.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Christmas was approaching fast and Hogwarts was now covered in several feet of snow. The Weasley twins had bewitched snowballs so they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. They were punished for this, but Elizabeth still thought it was funny and Quirrell deserved it simply for wearing such a ridiculous thing that distracted her every single time she had Defence Against the Dark Arts.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. Elizabeth wasn't a big fan of the holidays, but she just wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed, in her own room, no annoying roommates to deal with. She was looking forward to time away from Hogwarts and all that had happened. No magic allowed was sounding dead pleasant. Things just seemed to be getting progressively worse at school, and she needed a break from it all.

One Potions class, Draco Malfoy had to insult Harry to make himself feel better. Jealous and angry that everyone was impressed by Harry in the Quidditch match, Draco had taken to taunting him about not having a proper family.

"I do feel so sorry," he said, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

This always bothered Elizabeth more than anything else he said. "You certainly know a lot about not being wanted at home, don't you, Draco?"

Harry and Ron loved it when Elizabeth told Malfoy off. She was always so brutal about it.

"I would say your uncle has more knowledge in that area, wouldn't you agree." Draco was infuriated by Elizabeth's comment.

Elizabeth clenched her fists. "At least his father can stand the sight of him."

Draco's cheeks turned pink and he had clearly reached his breaking point. "At least I have parents, which is more than I can say for you!"

Elizabeth's anger faded. She was simply crushed by his words. Her eyes swelled up with tears and to her surprise, Snape interfered.

"That's enough, Mr. Malfoy," he said.

"But sir," Malfoy tried to argue. "She started it."

"Draco, I'll hex you from here to eternity!" Elizabeth threatened, holding back her tears.

She looked him straight in the eyes and swore for a moment there was a flash of regret that quickly faded into his cold glare. Snape turned his attention to her, but instead of taking five points from Gryffindor, he simply told her to sit down and keep quiet.

"Are you okay, Liz?" Hermione whispered to her.

She wiped her tears on her sleeve. "I'm fine," she lied.

After Potions they headed to the library. They had been searching nonstop for anything about Nicolas Flamel. So far they had come up with nothing, but it was keeping Elizabeth's mind off what had happened earlier that day. They had searched obvious books such as _Notable Magical Names of Our Time_ and [i]_Important Modern Magical Discoveries_, but came up empty handed. Without knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself in a book, they couldn't limit their search.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to split with Elizabeth and search, while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry had wandered into the Restricted Section of the library and was thrown out by Madam Pince for not having a teachers' permission to look at the books.

When Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth left the library, they still hadn't found anything to help them.

"Did you find anything?" Harry asked them.

"No, but it didn't help us any that you got kicked out," said Elizabeth.

"All right," said Hermione. "You and Ron keep looking while Elizabeth and I are away."

"You know, it's not too late if you both want to come home with me," Elizabeth offered.

"No thank you," said Ron. "Your gran scares me. Harry and I would rather stay here."

"Please yourselves. I'll check the bookshop for anything on Flamel while I'm there, too."

"And ask your grandfather about him," said Ron. "He might know something."

"Doubt it, but I can ask."

"Well, send me an owl if any of you find anything," said Hermione.

Once Elizabeth was home, she set immediately to searching countless books for any mention of Nicolas Flamel. She had set herself on the settee in the sitting room with a stack of books next to her and began to read.

The sitting room was much different from the parlour. It was the last door down the back hallway, next to the downstairs bathroom, which Margaret had decorated with the Christmas towels already, and across from the formal dining room, which was only used on Christmas and when Margaret had dinner parties.

The wallpaper was a rather dull beige pattern and the settee was a hideous green velvet like material that was itchy to sit on in the summer months when Elizabeth wore shorts. It was where Margaret kept all the large furniture she had taken from Nicholas and Genevieve when they died that she didn't particularly like. She kept it there rather than the parlour because there was a door she could close whenever she felt it too tawdry for her tastes.

"I hope you plan on putting all those books back where you found them when you're done," said Margaret, who was busy dusting off the large wooden centre where they kept the Wizarding Wireless Network.

On either side were bookshelves, filled with nothing but cookery books and a bunch of old photo albums. Margaret really kept no books of interest in the house.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll put them back," said Elizabeth.

"You'd better," Margaret warned and took off toward the kitchen.

A few seconds later, William was clearly heard stumbling out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. He promptly walked right back out and into the kitchen.

"My towels are gone," he said.

Elizabeth peeked out the door and down the hall. He had clearly just woken up because his shirt was on backwards and he had no trousers on. Margaret didn't appreciate it when he would walk around the house in his pants, as it was strictly forbidden, due to moral inappropriateness. Underwear was to be kept _underneath_ one's clothes at all times. That's why it was called underwear, according to Margaret anyway. William failed to see what was so morally improper about the fact he wore pants though and Elizabeth thought her grandmother should have been happy he wore pants at all.

It was also a bad habit of William's to keep terrible sleeping hours. He was up until the crack of dawn and slept until four in the afternoon. He said it was because he was a night owl, which Margaret never found as amusing as he did. Elizabeth thought he happened to get his best work done in the middle of the night. Margaret wasn't around to bother him, the house was dead silent because everyone was sleeping, and he had the freedom to roam the kitchen for whatever he wanted and no one was going to disapprove. It seemed ingenious. Elizabeth had tried adopting this habit herself, but never could continue with it for more than three days. It was a tiring lifestyle she had to admit.

"I put the Christmas towels up," said Margaret.

"Why?"

Elizabeth put her book down and walked to the kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water so she could be hear better when the inevitable argument burst out.

"Because it's Christmas."

William scratched his head. "Just give me my towels back."

Margaret twirled around, a large mixing spoon in her hand. "You will use what's in there!"

William stomped into the laundry room off the kitchen and came back out holding a pile of towels. Margaret swung the spoon at him as he passed. Elizabeth heard the bathroom door slam, then reopen, and the sound of the Christmas towels hitting the floor caused another familiar sound: Margaret's high heels furiously clicking against the hardwood.

"William!"

The front door opened and closed. Thomas entered the kitchen with a stack of wrapped boxes.

"Who are those for?" Elizabeth asked enthusiastically.

"Aunt Catherine and Uncle Oscar."

"You liar, we never get them anything."

Thomas winked at her and carried the boxes upstairs, pulling a ring of keys out of his pocket and unlocking the upstairs storage room. Elizabeth could hear Margaret coming back and quickly ran upstairs with Thomas, following him into the room.

Margaret never allowed Richard or her in the storage room, which is why it was always locked. William said it was where she kept all her junk like the antique lamp from her great-grandmother and William and Nicholas' childhood things. That was surely junk in William's mind, but Margaret felt it needed to be protected from the likes of the children so nothing wound up broken. Elizabeth had figured that's where all of her parent's stuff got packed away into when Margaret cleared their house out after Nicholas' death and imagined it had to be a mess in there.

The room was far less filled than she had previously imagined. There were several boxes neatly stacked against the far wall with black writing on them. One labelled Christmas decorations, another Nicholas' things, and the one on the bottom was at one point labelled William thing's, but things had been crossed out and relabelled _Mess_, clearly by Margaret when she was angry at him. There were a few dust covered books on a small shelf, a rusty owl's cage beneath it on the floor, and a small bed pushed up against a wall. There were old portraits hanging all around the room, an old wardrobe in the far corner, and a mirror covered by a sheet propped up against a trunk which she could tell used to be William's by the talon sized claw marks on it.

She thought the wardrobe looked out of place. Everything else in the room was old and dusty, but the wardrobe looked well kept. The doors were painted a pastel green with tiny white and pink flowers on it. Faint gold was sparkled throughout the design. She was positive this must have been Margaret's mother's. They had a bunch of her parent's old belongs like Oliver's old smoking chair in the parlour, that was brown leather and it seemed some part of her was always sticking to it whenever she sat there. The rug in the sitting room was also from Margaret's father Oliver, but she never did care for it enough to place it in any of the rooms she frequented, so in the sitting room it lay.

Elizabeth ran her fingers over the design on the doors of the wardrobe. Thomas put the boxes on the top shelf of the closet. Elizabeth touched the brass knobs, designed like flowers. She tried pulling them open, but the doors were stuck. She noticed under the handles was a gold key hole, smaller than a door, but bigger than one would find on a chest or music box.

"Gramps," she said.

"Hmm?"

"Where's the key for this wardrobe?"

"Your uncle has it. Why?"

"Because it's locked."

Thomas laughed. "Of course. It's a few of his things from his schooldays I believe. You know, robes, books, various prank items. Things like that. Margaret told him to just throw them in his trunk, but you know him. He'll keep things where he likes."

Elizabeth examined the lock. She wondered if that's where the key from Claudius fit. She rushed into her room, searching her trunk. When she found what she was looking for she ran back downstairs, nearly knocking over Margaret, who had come from William's bedroom with a pile of dirty clothes. She rushed into William's room to find him throwing things out of his cupboard.

"Do you have the key for that wardrobe upstairs?"

He poked his head out of the closet. "No, I've actually been looking for it myself, why?"

Elizabeth held up the key. "Is this it?"

William raised his eyebrows at her. "I was wondered how he planned to give that back to me."

Elizabeth handed William the key. "He wrote Richard, you know."

"Did he?" William asked, looking over the key.

"He wrote me too, but only after Richard told him to."

William took his glasses off his bedside cabinet and put them on. He held the key up to the light. "I don't think that's true. He gets busy you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"He was just —" William took his glasses off and set them on his desk. "A little backed up is all." William pocketed the key and looked at Elizabeth.

"When are you two going to talk again?"

Elizabeth looked him sternly in the eyes. He gazed back at her, clearly lost on what to say. Just then Margaret's voice rang out.

"Elizabeth! I thought I told you to put these books away when you were done!"

"What books?" William asked, not breaking his staring contest with her.

"Looking for a man named Nicolas Flamel."

"Ask Dad."

"I was going to."

"Good."

"Good."

"Elizabeth!" Margaret cried again.

Elizabeth broke her stare. "I'm coming!" she called, leaving William's room.

She didn't speak to him for the rest of the day. She had planned on not saying anything, until dinner that is. He took his usual seat across from her. As Richard told Margaret all about his year so far and the things he had busted students for as a prefect, Elizabeth was staring at William, or rather his chest. He had worn a button down shirt to dinner, with the top buttons left undone, and there under the fabric of his shirt she could see the key on a chain. She was so mad at herself. She didn't know why she didn't think of it before. The key used to sit on a gold chain, which was visible through the fabric of a button down shirt with the top few buttons left undone, worn, of course, by Claudius. It had all come back to her and she was kicking herself for it.

William Wellington gave important things of his to the people he loved. Most often these items were useless on their own, until paired with something William had, much like Claudius' key and the wardrobe. Margaret had a ring with a blue stone in it that, when placed stone first into a mark in William's desk, popped open a hidden drawer, where they kept all the important documents pertaining to the family. Thomas had a music box on his desk in the parlour that was missing the crank. William had it because inside was kept Genevieve's pearl necklace and her wedding ring, that he said one day they'd give to Elizabeth. Even Richard had something similar from William. It was a silver ring, but not to be worn. It was attached to a trap door under the rug in the sitting room. Elizabeth didn't know what was kept under the floor, as Richard had said he never had to use the silver ring, but she was jealous. She was the only one who did not have a secret with William.

"And how was your year, Elizabeth?" Margaret asked, sipping her soup off her spoon.

"Fine."

"Do you like your classes?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"And your professors?"

"Professor Snape's a git."

"Always was," William said.

"You," Margaret said to Elizabeth, "Don't say git at the table. And you," she said to William, "don't encourage her."

"Meet any friends?" Thomas chimed in.

"Yeah." Elizabeth kept eating her soup between sentences. "I guess Ron isn't so bad."

"Who?" Margaret asked.

"The Weasley's youngest boy," said Thomas.

"Yeah, there's him," Elizabeth said plainly.

"Tell them about Potter," Richard added.

"What?" Margaret asked.

"She met Harry Potter."

"It's not big deal," Elizabeth said with soup in her mouth. "He's a nice kid. Rather normal I guess."

"Told you, Mum," William said, but Margaret just hushed him.

"You be quiet."

Elizabeth put her spoon in her bowl. "Then there's this real obnoxious girl, Hermione," she said. "Real know-it-all, but she can't be too bright as we had to save her from a mountain troll."

Richard laughed awkwardly and kicked Elizabeth under the table. "Ow!" she exclaimed.

Margaret looked at her curiously. "Mountain troll?"

"Yeah, but that's not the worst. They got this big three headed dog in the third floor corridor and it bit Professor Snape really good. He deserved it though."

Margaret dropped her spoon with a clang. She looked at Thomas with wide eyes. William was clearly amused as he had reclined back in his chair.

Richard broke the silence. A smile had crept on his face and it was evident he thought while she had already gotten herself in trouble, he may as well add to it. "Did I tell you Elizabeth threw Telemachus out a window?"

The next day William was gone, as he often was. Richard was tending shop, organising and dusting. He had to spend the whole day there because Margaret was furious at him for letting Elizabeth run wild at school. Thomas had tried to tell her that it was not Richard's responsibility to watch Elizabeth, but she only said that Nicholas used to watch William and stormed upstairs into her room for the rest of the night. With no one else around, Elizabeth took to following Thomas around the house all day.

"What's that?" she asked as he carried a rather large box up the stairs.

"Not for you," he said, putting it down short of the storage room. He pulled out his keys.

Elizabeth stepped up to it. It was half her height and too big for her to wrap her arms around. "What's in it?"

"Elizabeth," Thomas warned.

He inserted the key in the lock. Elizabeth was at his side now.

"How do you know which key is which?" she asked.

Thomas showed her the key. It was engraved. "Your Gran has them labelled."

"Oh," said Elizabeth. "That's smart."

Thomas swung the door open. He picked up the box and carried it in the room. He tried closing the door with his foot, but Elizabeth pushed it back open and followed him in.

"Are you going to be my little helper today?" he asked, setting the box down.

"No," she said quietly, looking around.

Her eyes stopped on the wardrobe. She casually walked over to it and ran her fingers along the doors again as Thomas rearranged the cupboard to put the box in. She tugged on the knobs and surprisingly the doors pulled open. She jumped back, pushing them shut again. She looked over at Thomas. He peered at her over the top of his glasses.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing," she quickly replied.

He lowered his eyes back to the cupboard. She slowly pulled the doors open again, peeking in when she had enough space. It was too dark inside for her to see. She pulled them open slightly more, causing the hinges of the old wardrobe to creak. She poked her head inside.

"Elizabeth," Thomas said, indicating for her to stop.

She whipped her head out. "It's empty!" she cried as she swung the doors open and stood aside for Thomas to see.

He raised his eyebrows at her. She was standing with her feet spread, her hands on her hips, her lips pouting, and her green eyes narrowed. All that fuss over the key and it was empty.

Christmas morning had come around, but she didn't care. She really never had a soft spot for Christmas like most children. They all sat around a medium sized tree in the living room. It was dressed in gold garland and small, shiny ornaments. They didn't believe in using living beings likes fairies as ornaments, as Margaret hated cleaning up after them. Instead, each year, Elizabeth would make her a few new ornaments, usually by bending the silverware into various shapes. She always got mixed reactions from Margaret, because as much as Margaret loved Christmas, she was very fond of her silverware.

"All right, first, William, from your mother and me." Thomas handed William a neatly wrapped box.

He ripped it open in no time, making Margaret's neat and precise wrapping job a total waste of time. "No matter how old I get," said William, "I still hate getting clothes on Christmas."

Margaret smacked his shoulder. "William!"

"Next present!" Thomas eagerly handed Richard a package.

Richard wound up receiving new robes, new quills, and new cage for Telemachus, which was what was inside the large box. Richard had to transport Telemachus to Hogwarts this year in Odysseus' cage, which was much to large for the little owl, so he had been given one to accommodate the owl's size.

William had bought him Gobstones. There was a Gobstones club at Hogwarts that Richard had expressed a slight interest in joining last year. Key word was slight, but with as little as Richard ever said at home, he was lucky he didn't get a generic present like the quills from Margaret. Elizabeth got Richard Exploding Snap to play with his friends in the Ravenclaw common room.

Thomas had received a peculiar looking hat from William. Elizabeth thought it looked silly, but her grandfather seemed to love it. He wore it the rest of the day much to Margaret's disapproval. Richard and her chipped in to buy him a kneazle statue, which Margaret was absolutely appalled by when he put it by the fireplace in the parlour. He was quite emotional about it, even shedding a few tears and telling Margaret it looked just like Pharaoh. He really did miss that animal.

Margaret had gotten new candlestick holders from Thomas that were solid gold, so there was little chance of William cracking them. She had also gotten a new apron from Richard and Elizabeth had made her more ornaments, this time out of the silverware at Hogwarts so she wouldn't get so angry, but instead she got a lecture about not nicking silverware from school. There was simply no pleasing Margaret.

Finally all the presents had been exchanged. Elizabeth had gotten clothes from her grandparents just like William had, but she did get Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks from Richard, hidden carefully under a rose coloured dress he had bought her.

Afterwards, Elizabeth was laying on the sofa in the sitting room with her uncle. He was sucking on a Sugar Quill she had given him behind her grandmother's back. Hermione had sent them to Elizabeth as a comment on her tendency to not pay attention in class, but technically William wasn't supposed to have sugar. Margaret never allowed him to. She said he was hyper enough as it is and he didn't need to increase his energy. Elizabeth kind of agreed. Her uncle was very energetic. Margaret never allowed any of them to have sweets though.

"I noticed you specifically haven't given me anything yet." he said, taking the Sugar Quill out of his mouth.

"Check your desk," she said. "Richard and I kind of went kneazle crazy this year. Found the model first and planned on giving it to Gramps, but then Richard found the statue in Knockturn Alley and we thought Gran would let him keep that over the model."

William sat up instantly. "What was Richard doing in Knockturn Alley?"

"Looking for a kneazle. They had none at Magical Menagerie this year."

"Mum would have killed you if you two brought home another kneazle with bladder control issues."

"But Gramps likes kneazles," Elizabeth said, knowing how much her grandfather missed having Pharaoh, even if she was a menace.

"Well, here."

William handed Elizabeth a small silver box with a blue bow on top, but the bow did not come off and the box need not be unwrapped. It simply flipped open. It wasn't much bigger than the box Claudius had sent her and she was certainly hoping it wouldn't be another mystery key. She was disappointed to find absolutely nothing inside when she opened it.

"It's empty," she said annoyed to see it was just like the wardrobe.

William grabbed a chain around his neck and began to pull it out of his jumper. It was long and at the end of it was a shiny silver heart.

"It's a locket," said William, removing it from his neck and placing it around hers. "Real silver and all."

Elizabeth held the heart. It was a little bigger than a walnut and had intricate winding designs etched into it. "Where did you get this?"

"Oh no," said William. "It's one of a kind and you can't take it back."

Elizabeth held the box. "And it goes in here?"

"No, it goes around your neck."

Elizabeth sighed. "When I'm not wearing it, I mean."

William shrugged. "I guess."

Margaret's high heels could be heard clicking and no sooner than it started was she in the doorway of the sitting room with William's new clothes.

"Put these away," she said, holding out the pile. William begrudgingly got up and took them from her, pushing passed her in the door and into his room.

"This is amazing!" he could be heard in his bedroom. He popped back into the sitting room with the model kneazle held in his hand, grinning from ear to ear. He showed it to Margaret. "Look, Mum, it sleeps on its back just like Pharaoh used to."

Margaret glared at William. She clearly had enough kneazles for the day.

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter Twelve The Mirror of Erised, pages 194 to 195 and 197 to 199.


	13. Chapter Twelve

"You were out of bed, roaming around the school!" said Hermione. "What if Filch had caught you?"

Elizabeth and Hermione had returned the day before term started. Harry and Ron told them that Harry had received an invisibility cloak for Christmas with no card attached and they had been using it to wander around the school. It seemed odd that someone would send Harry such a valuable gift and not say who it was from.

"Lighten up," said Ron. "We were just looking for anything about Nicolas Flamel like you wanted us to."

"And did you find anything?" asked Elizabeth.

"Nothing," said Harry. "How about you?"

She shook her head. "I searched all the books in the shop that I could think of and nothing. I even asked Gramps and he didn't know either." She sighed. "I guess it's back to the library again."

Once term started they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. They had virtually no time to properly search and were still no closer to finding anything than they were when they first started.

"I have another list of books to check for tomorrow," said Hermione.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron. "I need to concentrate."

Elizabeth and Ron were playing chess. Hermione refused to play because she always lost. Elizabeth always lost too. It was impossible to win against Ron. He was just unbeatable. That didn't stop her from trying though.

"Well, that's a first," said Elizabeth. "Didn't know that was possible for you."

Ron looked up from the board at her. He caught sight of Harry, who had just come back from Quidditch practice. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

"It's Snape," said Harry.

"What has he done to you now?" Elizabeth asked.

"He's going to referee the next Quidditch match."

"What?"

"Don't play," said Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"_Really_ break your leg."

"Would you two knock it off." Elizabeth interrupted them. "Harry has to play. There's no reserve Seeker. If he doesn't play Gryffindor can't play at all. Wood would kill you, Harry."

Before anyone could say another word, Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognised at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower. Elizabeth jumped up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"Are you all right, Neville?" Elizabeth asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "What happened?"

"Malfoy," said Neville. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practise that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head. "I don't want more trouble."

"I can hex him for you if you like," Elizabeth offered. "What do you think about giving him antlers?"

"Elizabeth!" said Hermione. "You can't stoop to Malfoy's level."

"Why not?"

"Elizabeth's right," said Ron. "Neville's got to stand up for himself. Malfoy's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor," said Neville, "Malfoy's already done that."

Elizabeth was fed up with Malfoy and the way he was treating her friends. She thought poor Neville never did anything to deserve that sort of treatment. "Don't listen to him, Neville. Malfoy's just jealous."

She knew she was right. Malfoy was jealous, he was just jealous of Harry. It was rather obvious to Elizabeth that this was the case and cursing Neville was just a personal attack on Harry and his friends.

Harry handed Neville a Chocolate Frog. Hermione had sent him a box for Christmas, while Elizabeth sent him his own copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ so he could return the library's copy and not risk having Snape try and take it again.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lip twitched into a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog. Elizabeth thought everyone underestimated him, even himself. She had great faith in Neville though. He didn't have much self-confidence and that held him back. She was sure that once he got over that he'd be fine. He wasn't very good at Charms or Potions, but he was fantastic at Herbology. He just had a different set of skills she thought, and he didn't see it yet.

"Thanks, Harry," said Neville, "I think I'll go to bed. D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"

As Neville walked away, Elizabeth watched Harry.

"What?" said Harry. "Why are looking at me like that?"

"What you said to Neville, well, I think he really needed that. The Chocolate Frog too." Harry laughed. "So, what card did you get?"

Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card. "Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever ─"

He gasped.

"What?"

"_I've found him!_" whispered Harry. "Liz, this is it! I found Flamel!" He looked up at Ron and Hermione. "I knew I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here ─ listen to this: '_Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel_'!"

Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.

"Alchemy?" Elizabeth asked, as if she hadn't heard him correctly.

"Stay there!" said Hermione, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls dormitories.

Elizabeth was suddenly piecing everything together. Alchemy was the study of making the Philosopher's Stone. It all made sense now. That had to be what the dog was guarding. It was rare, valuable, and it produced the Elixir of Life, the same Potion that Snape had questioned her on that day in class. He must have been trying to see if any of them could figure out that the dog was guarding the Philosopher's Stone. She now felt stupid for not having realised it earlier.

Hermione dashed back with an enormous book in her arms. "I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"_Light?_" said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! _I knew it!_"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron, grumpily. Hermione ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, "is the _only known maker of the Philosopher's Stone!_"

"You think that's what the dog's guarding?" asked Elizabeth.

Hermione nodded.

"What's the dog guarding?" said Ron.

"What's the Philosopher's Stone?" said Harry.

"Oh, _honestly_, neither of you read, do you?" said Hermione looking at Ron and Harry. "Look ─ read that, there." She pushed the book toward them, and Harry and Ron read:

_The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Philosopher's Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal._

_There have been many reports of the Philosopher's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the celebrated alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifity-eight)._

"See?" said Hermione, when Harry and Ron had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Philosopher's Stone!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it!"

"Snape's not trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone," said Elizabeth. "That day in class he questioned me about the Elixir of Life. He must have been trying to see if we could figure it out and we have. Surely, if he was trying to steal it, he wouldn't want anyone to know what it was he was after. Snape's stupid, but not that stupid."

This seemed to make some sense to Hermione. "Then who would be after it if not Snape?" she said.

"Filch," suggested Ron.

"I wouldn't put it past Filch," said Elizabeth. "I mean, look at him. He's miserable and the Stone would make his life better."

"And longer," said Ron. "No wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry. He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

The next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts they were copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites. Elizabeth was all too familiar with werewolves. Margaret would lecture Richard and her all about them and had ever since they were little. Thomas said it was because William used to have a friend at school that was a werewolf, but he wasn't anything like the kind of monsters Margaret was making them all out to be; monsters like Fenrir Greyback, who thought nothing of biting a small child. He actually preferred to bite children in order to take them from their parents and raise them amongst other werewolves in support of Voldemort, conditioning them to hate normal people. He had gone beyond just becoming ravenous during his transformations. He bit people even in his untransformed state. Margaret had always warned them of him ever since he got away from William once and they all knew if he ever encountered him again that there was no way he would let him get away again. He had caught onto Greyback's trail twice since and lost him both times. She kept them away from Knockturn Alley, on the suspicion he might be meeting other wizards there, but it wasn't often he left his underground community, not since he was wanted anyway. William, however, was a regular in Knockturn Alley on the hope he would run into Greyback. He wasn't usually one to use the "Shoot to kill" policy that Bartemius Crouch Sr. introduced in the 1970s when he was head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but he had said he would gladly make an exception for Fenrir Greyback.

As the day of the Gryffindor verses Hufflepuff match arrived, everyone was nervous. They hoped that nothing went wrong this time, especially since Snape was refereeing. Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth wished Harry good luck outside the locker rooms, and then found a place in the stands next to Neville. He couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had each brought their wands to the match. Ron and Hermione had prepared to hex Snape if he tried anything. They spent the match watching him, but Elizabeth was carefully glancing at Draco Malfoy, who was looking awfully suspicious and coming their way.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," said Ron. "Look ─ they're off. Ouch!"

Malfoy had poked Ron in the back of the head. "Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer. Elizabeth turned around, her wand pointed at Malfoy. "Sod off before I give you hives," she said, referring to using the hives hex on Malfoy.

"Elizabeth, you must stop defending blood traitors," said Malfoy. "Soon enough you'll be no better than that giant loving grandfather of yours."

Elizabeth jumped up from her seat, ready to pounce on him, but Hermione pulled her back down.

"Ignore him," said Hermione.

That was easier said than done. Elizabeth wasn't the type of person to let anyone insult her friends and family. To call her grandfather a giant lover was reviling.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later as Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty for no reason. Elizabeth didn't want to hear what he had to say. He infuriated her and if he said one more thing she was going to use the silencing charm on him. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money ─ come to think of it, you and Longbottom should be on the team, Wellington. You for being raised by traitors and Longbottom for having no brains."

Elizabeth clenched her fists, but kept her eyes on the game. She noticed Neville next to her go bright red, but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered.

Elizabeth smiled slightly. She was really going to have to tell Harry about it later. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter.

"You tell him, Neville," said Elizabeth, still not daring to take her eyes from the game, otherwise she might just forget her wand and straight out slap Draco so hard his cheek would permanently have colour to it. "You're better than him."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

"I'm warning you Malfoy," said Ron, his nerves already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry. "One more word ─"

"What are you going to do, Weasley? You can't stand up for yourself anymore than Longbottom over here."

Neville's face fell. Elizabeth tore her eyes from the game. "Don't listen to him," she whispered to Neville, "I think you're wonderful." Neville forced a weak smile. "Come on, let's just watch the match." She linked arms with him and went back to watching the game.

"Well, would you look at that," said Malfoy. "I didn't think it was possible for you to do worse than Weasley over here, Elizabeth, but apparently I was wrong."

"Well then, you must not have considered yourself, did you?" said Elizabeth coolly. She didn't look back at him, but guessed that there was probably a pink tinge in his pale cheeks and that he was scowling at her.

Suddenly Harry dove towards the ground, drawing gasps and cheers from the crowd. Elizabeth watched him intently, not noticing that her arm had slipped out of Neville's and she was now gripping the edges of her seat tightly.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape.

Elizabeth was slowly leaning forward in anticipation, almost falling out of her seat. She tightened her grip on the edges. Neither her or Hermione heard the commotion of yelps and fists behind them. They were cheering far too loud.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to get out of Harry's way. He zoomed past Snape and a second later he had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph. He had caught the Snitch. The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

Elizabeth jumped onto her seat like Hermione. "The game's over! Harry's won!" said Elizabeth elated, hugging Hermione.

"We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat. "Ron! Ron! Where are you?"

They had just noticed Ron and Neville had disappeared. Elizabeth spotted them under Crabbe and Goyle in the row behind them, engaged in an all out brawl. She jumped over her seat.

"Ron!"

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter Thirteen, Nicolas Flamel pages 215 to 220, and pages 221 to 224.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Elizabeth emerged from the hospital wing. "Well, Pomfrey has healed his wounds, but he's still knocked out. Says he'll be fine, though."

"Oh, I can't believe you, Ronald," said Hermione. "What were you thinking? Fighting with Malfoy? You're just lucky that Elizabeth jumped in there when she did!" Hermione was outraged that Ron had attacked Malfoy at the Quidditch match. "If she hadn't, Malfoy would have never called Crabbe and Goyle off you and Neville! You both would have suffered a lot worse injuries than you did! What you did was incredibly foolish!"

"All right, Hermione, calm down," said Elizabeth. "It's not like Draco didn't deserve it. Let's just get back to the common room."

On their way that had run into a gloomy looking Harry.

"Harry, where have you _been_?" Hermione squeaked.

"You're never going to believe what happened to us at the Quidditch match today," Elizabeth told him. "What you said to Neville, well it must have had an impact on him. He tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handedly! It was brilliant. You should have seen him!"

"Elizabeth!" said Hermione. "He's in the hospitable wing!"

"Is he okay?" Harry sounded worried.

"Yeah, he's fine." Elizabeth brushed off Neville's injuries. "Just knocked out."

"You really should have been there, Harry," said Ron. "I gave Malfoy a black eye!"

"And I suppose you're proud of yourself, aren't you, Ron?" said Hermione stuffily.

Ron ignored her. "Everyone's waiting for you in the common room. We're having a party. Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this..." He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them. "I just saw Snape talking to Quirrell about the Philosopher's Stone."

"So we were right," said Ron.

"Who's this we?" Elizabeth crossed her arms. "Me and Hermione? Why yes, Ron, _we_ were right."

"Yeah, but you were wrong about Snape," said Harry. "He is trying to get the Stone and he's trying to force Quirrell into helping him. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy ─ and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus' ─ I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through ─"

Elizabeth laughed.

"What's so funny?" said Ron.

"Harry," Elizabeth said through her laughter. "Everybody knows that when Snape came to this school he wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts position, not Potions. He doesn't need Quirrell to break any spells. He can do it himself."

"And where did you hear that?" Ron said in disbelief.

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. "Your brother Percy told my brother Richard and Richard asked Uncle William and he said it's true." Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at him.

"Is not!" said Ron defensively.

"Both of you stop it." Hermione ended their argument. "If Snape gets past Fluffy, then he can get the Stone no problem?"

"We better do something," said Ron.

"Do what?" said Elizabeth. "Talk to Quirrell? He's going to deny whatever we say. Students aren't allowed to know about the Stone. He could probably lose his job if he said anything to us."

"We can't just sit around and let Snape steal it!" said Harry.

"If it all depends on Quirrell standing up to Snape, the Stone'll be gone by next Tuesday," Ron said.

Professor Snape must not have figured out how to get past Fluffy though, because the dog could still be heard growling in the forbidden corridor the following weeks and Quirrell seemed to be growing weaker.

There was more on their minds than the Philosopher's Stone, however. Hermione had been drawing up revision schedules and colouring coding her notes. She had been nagging Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth to do the same.

"I don't even take notes," Elizabeth complained.

"Then how do you expect to pass these exams?" said Hermione.

"They're ten weeks away! I'll worry about it then."

"If you think you're just going to sit here and do nothing, then pass the exams no problem, you have another thing coming."

"If you think I'm going to sit here and revise for the rest of the school year, _you_ have another thing coming."

Unfortunately, the teachers were on Hermione's side. They piled so much coursework on them that the Easter holidays weren't nearly as fun as the Christmas ones. They had spent most of their time in the library with Hermione, trying to get through all their extra work. It was so frustrating. It seemed that all they did anymore was coursework.

Elizabeth lay her head on the table. She was drained of energy. "Who wants to play the not study game for a while?"

Ron threw down his quill and closed his books. "Sounds good to me."

"You two will never get all your work done if you keep slacking off," said Hermione.

"But it's a nice day," whinged Elizabeth. "The first nice day we've had in months. They sky is a clear blue and it's warm out. Hermione, I want to go outside and live a little."

"You will not pass your ─"

"If you say one more thing about exams, my head's going to explode."

Hermione rolled her eyes at her. Elizabeth noticed Harry still buried behind _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_, looking something up.

"Harry, put the book down, we're rebelling against Hermione and her revision schedule." Harry didn't look up from the book. "Harry? HARRY!" She grabbed the book out of his hands. "If you could manage to tear yourself away from the fascinating study of fungi, I would like to ─"

"Hagrid!" Harry noticed the giant shuffling into view, hiding something behind his back.

Elizabeth sighed. "Sit here while you ignore me," she muttered to herself.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked Hagrid.

"Jus' lookin'," said Hagrid, in a shirty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He suddenly looked suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicholas Flamel, are yeh?"

"No, we've already found out who he is," said Elizabeth. "Know what the dog is guarding too."

"Hagrid, there a few questions we want to ask you about the Stone," said Harry.

"SHHH!" said Hagrid looking around to see if anyone was listening. "Don't go shoutin' about it. Students aren' s'possed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh. Listen ─ come see me later. But I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin'."

They nodded.

"What've you got behind your back, Hagrid?" Elizabeth stood up and leaned to one side to try and see what Hagrid was concealing.

"Er ─ nothing." Hagrid moved to block Elizabeth's view. "I've got ter go," he said quickly before shuffling off.

Elizabeth sat back down.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" asked Hermione.

"It was a book," said Elizabeth. "A book on dragons."

"But why would Hagrid be taking out a book on dragons?"

"He's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," said Harry.

"But it's against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that."

Hermione looked impressed that Ron actually knew something and he didn't learn it in History of Magic class either.

"Besides, even if Hagrid could keep one, he can't tame it," said Elizabeth. "They're dangerous. You should see all the burns Charlie's got from wild ones in Romania."

Elizabeth never particularly liked the Weasley boys. Percy was more stuck up than Richard and twice as intolerable, the twins were nothing but trouble and they picked on her all the time, and Ron couldn't get along with Elizabeth more than ten minutes without starting a fight. Bill she never minded, as he seemed to try and keep some order with his siblings, but he was now in Egypt working as a curse-breaker for Gringotts. Charlie, on the other hand, was right up there with the twins in her mind. She simply found him annoying whenever he visited. Margaret seemed quite taken with Charlie though and Elizabeth couldn't figure out why.

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain, are there?" Harry asked.

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you."

"Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Beast Division, Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau," said Elizabeth proudly. "Although, I think it's the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes that puts spells on the Muggles who've seen dragons to make them forget. Or maybe it's the Department of Misinformation. No," she shook her head. "That'd only be if they caught them on camera, I believe."

"You've spent way too much time researching the Ministry," Ron said.

"I know," Elizabeth admitted, "but I think I'm better qualified for a job there after school."

"A job doing what?"

"Werewolf Support Services," she suggested. "Maybe Department of Mysteries. I've always wanted to know what goes on in there."

The Department of Mysteries was shrouded in...well, mystery. Elizabeth didn't know what they kept up there on the ninth level, or what the people that worked there did. All she knew was it was off limits and the people that held positions there were called the "Unspeakables." It seemed to be that they were the only ones who knew what was up there, besides the Minister of Magic, of course.

When they walked down to Hagrid's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. He quickly let them in and shut the door behind them. It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was a warm day, he had a fire going in the grate.

"So ─ yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?"

"We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the Philosopher's Stone apart from Fluffy," said Harry.

"O' course I can't," said Hagrid frowning. "I don' know meself an' if I did, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could."

"Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here," said Hermione in a flattering voice. "We only wondered who Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him guard the Stone, apart from you."

Hermione was the best at buttering people up. Her extreme brown nosing and excellent relations with the teachers had really helped them. Besides getting out of serious trouble on Halloween, she had also charmed Madam Pince one day in the library back when they were still searching for Nicolas Flamel. Elizabeth had slammed a book back onto the shelves out of frustration and accidently caused a few others to fall out of place, landing on the floor. Madam Pince nearly threw her out before Hermione complimented Madam Pince on her excellent organisational system. Elizabeth was merely given a warning about her inappropriate volume and told to respect the books.

"Well, I don' s'pose it would hurt ter tell yeh that Dumbledore has all the teachers protectin' the Stone."

"All the teachers?" Elizabeth questioned. "Is that possible?"

"Well, Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall." Hagrid ticked them off on his fingers, "Professor Quirrell, an' Dumbledore of course, oh an' Professor Snape."

"I knew I should have bet you, Ron," said Elizabeth.

"Yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."

"Why's it so hot in here?" Elizabeth rolled up her sleeves. "Hagrid, why don't you open a window?"

"Can't, Lizzie, sorry."

"Why not? Are you hatching a dragon egg in here?" Elizabeth joked. Hagrid glanced at the fire. "I wasn't being serious. Hagrid, you can't have a dragon. It's against the law."

"Where'd you get it?" said Ron amazed, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the huge, black egg. "It must've cost you a fortune."

"Ron!"

"Won it," said Hagrid. "Las' night off a man in the village in a game o' cards. He seemed glad ter get rid of it."

"But what are you going to do with it when it's hatched?" said Hermione.

"Let it go," said Elizabeth.

"I can' do that, Lizzie. I got a Norwegian Ridgeback there. They're rare, they are. Learned all abou' recognisin' dragon eggs an' how ter take care o' them once they hatched from a book I got out o' the library."

"I wouldn't care if you had a Romanian Longhorn, you cannot keep it!"

But Hagrid wasn't listening. He was humming merrily as he stroke the fire.

They spent the next few days anxiously waiting for the egg to hatch. Harry was enthralled with the idea of seeing a real live dragon for the first time and for Hagrid to finally fulfill his dream of having one. Ron and Elizabeth were less excited than Harry. They were surprisingly in agreement for once. As much as Ron wanted to see the dragon once it hatched, he knew that Hagrid simply couldn't keep it. He may not have been the brightest in their year, but thanks to his older brother Charlie, he knew plenty about dragons. They were both worried about when the dragon started to breathe fire and how big it would eventually get. Elizabeth and Ron thought dragons were wonderful beasts, but they couldn't be kept as pets.

Hermione, on the other hand, seemed completely uninterested in the dragon egg and spent all her time revising for exams. She was even pushing her revision schedule onto Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth.

"I have figured out a way to maximise the amount of revision time each of you have," said Hermione at breakfast one morning. "Harry, you have less than the rest of us because of Quidditch, but I thought you could make up for it by revising during meal times as well."

She handed Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth a revision schedule.

"Oh look, you've even taken the liberty to schedule in toilet breaks," said Elizabeth. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to follow this."

Hermione was arguing with Elizabeth when Hedwig brought Harry a note from Hagrid.

"It's hatching," he said.

"_Now?_" Elizabeth asked. Harry nodded. "Grab your things, let's go." Elizabeth rushed out of the Great Hall with Harry and Ron close behind her.

"What about class?" Hermione asked as she caught up with them.

"We only have Herbology," said Ron. "It's not like we'd be missing anything."

"We can't skip class. We'll get in trouble."

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"Hagrid's not even supposed to have that egg. When someone finds out what he's doing ─"

"Shut it!" Harry whispered.

Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen.

"Eavesdropping is a terrible habit, Draco," said Elizabeth. "You never get the full story doing so."

"Don't worry, I'm sure I did," said Malfoy smirking.

"I assure you, you didn't. So I suggest you sod off before you get worse than a black eye this time."

Malfoy sneered at her and walked away. She was sure he heard something. Whether or not he heard it all, no doubt would he use what he heard to get them all, especially Hagrid, in trouble.

"You don't think he really heard, do you?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," said Elizabeth. "I wish I knew he was there. I know a spell that would have kept him from hearing."

Whenever Thomas and Margaret had a serious discussion at home that they didn't want anyone hearing, they would use _Muffliato_ so the children couldn't eavesdrop. Similarly, William used this spell quite a bit to keep his mother from eavesdropping on his private conversations, which always led to an argument that if he had nothing to hide, he shouldn't feel the need to use the spell. Of course, he did have things to hide, which is why he used it and saying that only led to a bigger argument. It was one of the spells Elizabeth was very familiar with by then with the frequency it was cast in her household.

"Well, come on, we're going to be late," said Hermione.

"We're not going to class, we're going to Hagrid's hut," said Ron.

"We are not! I already said we'll get in trouble."

"Then you can go to class and we'll go see Hagrid."

"If you go I swear I'll tell Professor Sprout where you are. Then you'll all be in serious trouble."

"Both you shut it!" said Elizabeth.

Elizabeth wanted to go right then and see the dragon, but Hermione would not only tell Professor Sprout that they were skipping class, she would of course mention it's because Hagrid had a dragon egg and he would be in trouble too, not to mention Dumbledore would have to take the egg away. Hermione was as bad as Draco sometimes without even realising it and Elizabeth just couldn't break Hagrid's heart like that. Harry said he always wanted a dragon, and even if he couldn't keep it, she didn't want it to be taken away from him because of them.

"We'll go during break," she said. "It's going to take a while for it to break out of its shell anyway. We probably won't miss anything."

When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the four of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it and something was moving inside. A funny clicking noise was coming from it. All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. A black baby dragon flopped onto the table. Its wings were huge compared to its skinny body. It had a long snout, stubs of horns, and bulging, orange eyes. It sneezed. A couple sparks flew out of its snout. Elizabeth thought it looked positively repulsive.

"Isn't he _beautiful_?" Hagrid muttered.

"Define beautiful," muttered Elizabeth under her breath.

Harry nudged her in the side. Hagrid reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs.

"Bless him, look, he knows his mummy!" said Hagrid.

"How fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?" asked Hermione.

Hagrid was about to answer when all the colour suddenly drained from his face. He lept to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains ─ it's a kid ─ he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry bolted to the door and looked out. "It's Malfoy," he said.

Elizabeth ran to the door, pushed Harry out of the way, and sprinted back up to the castle after Malfoy.

"ELIZABETH!"

She was already half way there when Harry called her name, but she just kept running. She had to catch Malfoy before he told anyone about the dragon. If he hadn't heard exactly what was going on before, he certainly knew now and there was no way he was going to stay quiet about it.

She called after him. "DRACO!"

It was no use though. He was too far ahead of her. By the time she had entered the castle, she was out of breath and there was no sign of Malfoy anywhere. She didn't know where he might have gone, which professor he'd run off to tell, so she had no clue which way to start searching for him. She cursed under her breath. They were all in trouble now.

The next week was torture. Malfoy hadn't told anyone yet. He much rather enjoyed the pleasure he got from knowing he could get them all in deep trouble whenever he wanted to and sometimes took to taunting them with the information he now possessed. He could treat them any way he wanted and they couldn't do anything about it lest they risk him telling a professor. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth spent most of their free time in Hagrid's hut, trying to reason with him to get rid of Nobert before it was too late.

"Hagrid, you've got to let him go," urged Hermione. "He's getting too big."

The dragon had grown three times in length in just a week. It was breathing smoke now, and Hagrid had been neglecting his gamekeeper duties because the dragon was keeping him so busy.

"He's still jus' a baby, Hermione," said Hagrid. "I couldn' let him go. He'd die."

"Well, you've got to do something," said Elizabeth. "He's going to outgrow your hut soon and everyone's going to know you have a dragon."

"I know, but I can't part with him. He really knows me now. I even named him."

"Oh, Hagrid, no," said Elizabeth in anguish. "Why did you do that? It's going to make it that much harder to get rid of him."

"What did you name him?" said Harry.

"Are you encouraging this? You can't be encouraging this, Harry."

"I've decided to call him Norbert," said Hagrid, looking at the dragon with misty eyes. Elizabeth threw her arms up in frustration. "Watch this. Norbert! Norbert! Where's Mummy!"

"He's lost his marbles," Ron muttered into Elizabeth's ear.

Elizabeth cringed at the sight and sound of the giant talking such tosh. "Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback." She paused trying to find the words to say. "It's definitely ─ a _unique_ name for a dragon."

"Hagrid, we know how much you love Norbert, but you can't keep him." Hermione tried to reason with him. "Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."

Hagrid bit his lip. "I know I can't keep him forever, but I can't jus' dump him. I can't."

An idea popped into Elizabeth's head and she lightly elbowed Ron in the ribs.

"What?" he said.

"Charlie," said Elizabeth sweetly. "We could send Norbert to him, can't we?"

"That's not a bad idea. How 'bout it, Hagrid? My brother Charlie could take care of Norbert and then put him back in the wild when he's old enough."

Hagrid looked unsure with the plan. "Come on, Hagrid," pleaded Elizabeth. "What other options do you have?"

Finally he agreed to let them send an owl to Charlie asking. He didn't seem too happy about his decision, but it was really the only choice he had.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night, Harry, Hermione, and Elizabeth were sitting alone in the common room at midnight.

"Did you finish your Transfiguration assignment?" Hermione asked Elizabeth, who lay across a chair, staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

"Yeah, I finished it."

"Why don't you let me look it over?"

"Because I don't need you to. I'm not incompetent."

Suddenly the portrait hole burst opening, causing Elizabeth to jerk upright in her seat. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's invisibility cloak. Elizabeth sighed and resumed her position laying across the armchair.

"How's Norbert?" she asked. Ron had been spending nights down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed the dragon.

"It bit me!" said Ron. Elizabeth sat back up. He showed them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met."

"I think someone's forgetting about that kneazle with the bladder control issues that took a shining to my grandfather."

Now, Thomas loved Pharaoh and Richard and Elizabeth didn't mind her, but she was a kneazle after all. She was suspicious of people, and by people it should be clarified that she hated the Weasley twins, and by suspicious it should also be clear that meant she peed on them. Elizabeth always thought it their fault for tying things to her tail like that. It startled her and she had no control when she was startled.

"At least your grandmother got rid of that thing," said Ron. "The way Hagrid goes on about that dragon, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

"Well, if I remember correctly, my grandmother yelled at your brothers too when she went all over them, the settee, and the oriental rug in the parlour."

Pharaoh was a really neat animal and if she could have just learned to stop seeing the world as her toilet, Margaret would have never had such a problem with her.

There was a tap on the window, disrupting the conversation. Harry's owl Hedwig had returned with a letter. Harry let her in.

"It's from Charlie," he said reading it. "He wants us to get the dragon to the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday. His friends will pick it up and take it to him." He looked at them. "I don't think that should be too difficult. The invisibility cloak is big enough to cover two of us and Norbert."

"Well, you two boys have fun getting that dragon up to the Astronomy tower," said Elizabeth. "Try not to get caught by Filch."

"We won't," said Ron, "because you will be distracting him."

"What?"

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter Thirteen, Nicolas Flamel pages 226 to 227, and Chapter Fourteen, Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback, pages 228 to 238.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Elizabeth didn't know how they expected her to distract Filch at midnight on Saturday and not get caught herself, but that became the least of her worries when the next morning Ron's hand had swollen to twice its normal size. He didn't think it was safe to go to Madam Pomfrey, as she'd recognise the bite, but by afternoon he had no choice. The cut was now green. Norbert's fangs were obviously poisonous. Harry, Hermione, and Elizabeth rushed up to the hospital wing after classes to find Ron in a terrible state.

"Is your hand that bad?" Elizabeth asked.

"No," said Ron. "Well, it feels like it's going to fall off, but that's not the problem. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come in here and have a good laugh at me. He threatened to tell her what really bit me."

"Don't worry, it will all be over Saturday." Hermione tried to calm him down. It seemed to have the exact opposite effect.

He bolt upright. "On no! I've just remembered ─ Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took. He's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

Before anyone could say anything else, Madam Pomfrey shooed Harry, Hermione, and Elizabeth out, saying that Ron needed rest.

"What are we going to do now?" asked Hermione.

"Go through with it," said Elizabeth. "We don't have time to send Charlie another letter. We're going to have to risk it. With Harry's invisibility cloak, you two should do fine getting Norbert up to the Astronomy tower on Saturday."

"Me?" said Hermione. "With Ron out I figured you would. You enjoy breaking the rules."

"Can't. I have to get that book back from Malfoy before he reads the letter."

"And what about Saturday?"

"Ron volunteered me to get expelled, remember? I have to distract Filch."

"What happens if you get caught?" Harry asked.

"That's the whole point of taking one for the team." She patted Harry's shoulder.

"She can't be serious," Elizabeth heard Harry say to Hermione as she disappeared down the corridor. "She's going to get expelled."

She glanced back to see a worried expression on Hermione's face. It made Elizabeth feel sick to her stomach. If Hermione was genuinely worried and not just nagging about losing House points, it had to be serious.

As she turned the corner, she heard Hermione say, "I ─ I think she has a chance."

Elizabeth sighed. She knew it was a very slim chance.

She was also having no luck trying to get the book back. She didn't want to directly ask Malfoy for it. She didn't want to come off too eager to get the book back in case he hadn't opened it yet and read the letter. Desperation to get it back would only make him suspicious. Trying to steal it back wasn't working either, as he never had it with him. She could only hope he didn't know what was going on and it stayed that way until after Nobert was gone.

She was sitting in the common room on Saturday night while Harry and Hermione snuck down to Hagrid's hut to retrieve Norbert. She felt like she failed them. She had one task to get the book back from Malfoy and she couldn't even do that. With the way he had been taunting her all day as well, she was certain he now knew the plan. She felt sick as she prepared herself for that evening. She had worked her best to come up with a plan to distract Filch, yet avoid him at the same time, but she couldn't come up with one that was foolproof. She was going to get caught no matter what and her grandmother would beat her into next year for getting expelled.

"What's the matter?"

She snapped out of her distressing thoughts to find Neville standing next to her armchair, looking down at her with a worried expression on his face.

"It's nothing," she lied. Suddenly she had an idea. "Hey, Neville, you want to help me, Harry, and Hermione?"

His voice was trembling. "How?"

Around midnight Elizabeth and Neville snuck out of the common room.

"Come on, Neville."

"Liz, I don't think this is such a good idea," said Neville shakily. "What if we get caught?"

"If you follow the plan we won't, I promise. Now here, you take the screaming yo-yo and go down to the third floor." She handed him the yo-yo. "With everyone else in bed, Filch is sure to hear it no problem. And if you run into Peeves remember what I told you."

"Tell him to cause as much trouble to Mr. Filch as possible."

"I'm pretty sure if someone gives Peeves an order to cause chaos he'll do it. Anyway, I'm going down to the ground floor. Once you use that, Filch'll bolt out of his office, so I want you to run back to the common room immediately. I'll head down to the dungeons and set off the wet-start no-heat fireworks Richard got me for Christmas. Then Filch will come running my way. Got all that?" Neville nodded. "All right, you're a brave one, Longbottom. Now get to the third floor."

"Wait, how do I know when to use the screaming yo-yo? When will you be down by Filch's office?"

"I'll walk with you down to the third floor. Once I leave you, give me ten minutes then use it. Think you can do that? You can't be nervous tonight, Neville. You need to be confident."

He still looked uncertain. "I don't think I can."

"Sure you can. You took on Malfoy and his goons no problem, you can do this."

They crept quietly down to the third floor, past sleeping portraits. Elizabeth led Neville back to the trophy room entrance.

"Now, this is just like last time we were here," said Elizabeth. "Go through the armour gallery, don't trip this time, go through the tapestry to the Charms corridor, and just back to the common room from there. I'm going to leave now, okay?"

"Ten minutes," muttered Neville.

"Right. Come on, Neville, buck up. You can do this. I believe in you. I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't."

She gave him a reassuring smile and crept off down to the ground floor. Only a few minutes had gone by when Neville heard footsteps approaching. He hid inside the trophy room.

Elizabeth had made it down by Filch's office, but there was no sign of the caretaker, and after ten minutes she didn't hear the yo-yo. Afraid that Filch had caught Neville already, she rushed back up to the third floor only to find it completely empty. There was no sign of Neville or Filch anywhere. Not even any of the ghosts were roaming about. Without thinking, she bolted towards the Astronomy tower. She was positive that that had to be where Filch was, or where he was headed at least.

By the time she got there she saw Harry and Hermione descending the spiral staircase. They must have left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower. Elizabeth went to approach them until she saw a shadow and Filch suddenly loomed out of the darkness. She quickly retreated into the darkness.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."

Elizabeth watched from the shadows as Filch seised Harry and Hermione, and led them away, presumably to Professor McGonagall's office on the first floor.

When they were out of sight, Elizabeth slipped carefully up the spiral staircase to the top of the astronomy tower, where she found the invisibility cloak. She picked it up and put it on. She didn't know if there was a way to get Harry and Hermione out of this one, but she could at least save Neville if she found him.

She crept back down the staircase and silently through the corridor. She felt like she had wandered half the castle, but she had no luck finding Neville. She decided maybe he got scared and fled back to the common room. Upon walking through the portrait hole, she saw three very familiar, yet downtrodden faces. They were sitting in the dark, sulking.

"What happens when the rest of Gryffindor finds out?" whispered Harry.

"Finds out what?" Elizabeth ripped the cloak off herself.

"Liz! You were out of bed too?"

"Ron's distract Filch plan," said Elizabeth angrily. "Obviously failed. Remember to tell him that in the morning. Thank you, Neville."

"I ─ I'm sorry," said Neville meekly. "I heard Malfoy say he was going to get Harry in trouble with Professor McGonagall. I wanted to help."

Elizabeth sighed. She wanted to yell at Neville, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. He was only trying to help his friends.

"What happened to you all?" she asked.

"Detention and 150 points from Gryffindor," said Harry.

"150 POINTS!" Elizabeth's eyes grew wide. "You mean ─"

"The three of us just lost Gryffindor the house cup."

Elizabeth felt just as bad as the three of them. "Next time, everyone is drinking the Felix Felicis potion!"

There was a moment of silence in the room as everyone just wallowed in their own self-pity. All of Gryffindor House was going to hate them in the morning. She wanted to strangle Malfoy, but that would do no good. The damage was already done.

"I think you should all go to bed," said Elizabeth, breaking the silence. "There's nothing we can do about it tonight."

The next morning word was out. Harry had become the most hated person in school. Even the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. Everywhere Harry went, people pointed and insulted him. The Slytherins cheered and whistled as he walked past them.

"Thanks Potter, we owe you one!"

"Piss off!" yelled Elizabeth.

"They'll all forget this in a few weeks," said Ron. Ron and Elizabeth were the only two that still stood by Harry. "Fred and George have lost loads of points in all the time they've been here, and people still like them."

"They've never lost a hundred and fifty points in one go, though, have they?" said Harry miserably.

"Well ─ no," Ron admitted.

It remained awkward like that for weeks. Everyone was miserable. No one would speak to Harry, Hermione, and Neville. Hermione wouldn't even answer questions in class. Ron and Elizabeth had also been receiving the cold shoulder from a few people for still being on friendly terms with the three. Elizabeth felt so guilty for getting Neville involved in the whole mess. If she hadn't asked him to help her distract Filch, then he wouldn't have gotten caught by McGonagall, and instead of one hundred and fifty points lost it would only be a hundred. They would still lose the house cup with that many points gone, but at least Neville wouldn't be in trouble because of her.

The next morning Harry, Hermione, and Neville received notes at breakfast telling them that they had detention that night at eleven o'clock.

"It won't be that bad." Elizabeth tried to console them. "It's just one night and it'll all be over."

"That's easy for you to say," said Harry bitterly. "You don't have detention."

"Don't be mad at me, I tried to help you."

"Well, you did a smashing job of that, don't you think?"

Elizabeth hung her head in shame. She now knew what it must have felt like when William yelled at Margaret for getting involved in his life.

In the weeks that followed, things had slowly gone back to normal. Harry had told them he encountered Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest and was insisting that Snape was trying to get the Stone for him, or at least that's what the centaurs told him. Elizabeth didn't even try to argue with him, exams were taking up too much of her time. She wouldn't have been worried if Harry didn't keep complaining that his scar was hurting and he was having nightmares about Voldemort. She kept telling him that he can't pay any mind to his nightmares, they don't really mean anything. She didn't pay any mind to dreams because Aunt Catherine was a bit of a nutter. She had several dream interpretation books and followed them strictly. Elizabeth hated when she and Oscar came to visit because she would always have a dream and then none of them could wear red that day, or eat pancakes for breakfast, or something silly like that. Harry wasn't listening to Elizabeth though. He still seemed rather sore at her. It reminded her of earlier in the year when she was treating Harry the same way for no good reason and she was right sorry about it now that the tables were turned.

Between being concerned about Harry, exams, and the inevitable punishment that was awaiting her at home this summer, she barely got any rest. Elizabeth was unsure how she managed to get through all her exams without passing out from exhaustion. She was sure she had written so many papers by now with special Anti-Cheating quills that she could do it in her sleep, which she had almost done actually, considering she nearly dozed off during a couple.

Her practical exams weren't as bad. They were rather easy. Professor Flitwick made each student make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk, Professor McGonagall made them transform a rat into a snuffbox, and Professor Snape made them make a Forgetfulness potion. Elizabeth regretted not paying attention months ago when he taught them how, but she managed to get through it. She even managed to get through her last exam: History of Magic. An hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who invented self-stirring cauldrons, and goblin rebellions. She did briefly fall asleep during that one until Hermione elbowed her hard in her side to wake her up. She was sure if there was talking allowed, she would have also been nagging that she told Elizabeth to get plenty of sleep and she just never listens. She may have been friends with Hermione Granger now, but that didn't make Hermione any less obnoxious.

When the exam ended, Elizabeth couldn't help but cheer. She had a week to rest, no more studying, before the exam results came in. She decided to head back to her dormitory for some well deserved sleep. After telling Ron where she'd be, she slowly made her way to the Gryffindor common room. The trek was at least quiet, as most people had gone outside to enjoy the beautiful weather. Her legs felt like lead as she climbed the staircase to the seventh floor. She was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. She could vaguely make out a shadowy figure down the corridor from behind her drooping eyelids. The figure was dressed in Ravenclaw robes with neatly combed chestnut coloured hair like her grandmother's.

"You again?" She was slightly annoyed. "Go away, Richard." He didn't respond. She moved slowly closer and could see he was a bit taller than Richard. "Richard?" She rubbed her eyes and the figure was gone. She was standing alone in the hallway. "Richard." She put her hands on her hips and looked around to see if he was playing a cruel joke on her. "Richard, I'm going to tell Gran if you don't knock it off and come out this minute." She waited for a response, but no one appeared. "Richard!"

The hall was dead silent. No students, no ghosts, no Richard.

"Richard?" she whispered.

She was sure she had just seen him, but maybe her eyes were playing tricks. He looked like Richard, except different. He was taller, he was thinner, and he wore his hair different, but she swore he looked like Richard.

Elizabeth had made it back to the common room by herself all right, startled, but all right. She collapsed into an armchair immediately, unable to climb the stairs to the girls dormitory. She was beginning to doze off when the portrait hole swung open and Harry and Ron strolled through. They found Elizabeth curled up in one of the armchairs.

"I thought you were going to bed," said Ron.

"Does it look like I made it that far?" Elizabeth opened her eyes. "What are you two doing inside? And where's Hermione?"

Hermione came running through the portrait hole a second later looking flushed. "I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him. I've only just got away. I don't know where Snape went."

"What are you three up to now?" Elizabeth asked.

"Snape is going to steal the Stone," said Harry.

"How many times must I tell you?" She rested her head on the arm of the chair. "Hagrid said he's protecting it." She yawned.

"I don't care what you say, Snape is trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. If I'm going out of here tonight, I'm going to try and get to the Stone first."

"What are you talking about, Harry?"

"Voldemort is coming back!"

Elizabeth sat up. She looked at Ron and Hermione. "He's lost it, hasn't he?"

Harry grabbed Elizabeth by the arms. "LISTEN TO ME!" he shouted. "I'm going through that trapdoor tonight and I'm going to stop Snape!"

Elizabeth glared at him. "Let go of me before you bruise my arms." Harry let go of her immediately. She stood up from her chair and proceeded to the stairs.

"Aren't you going to help me?" he asked.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Why tonight? How are you so sure that Snape is going down there _tonight_?"

"Because Dumbledore's gone. Hagrid said that the stranger that gave him the dragon egg asked a lot of questions about Fluffy. He told him how to get past the dog. We think that the hooded person he played cards with was Snape."

Elizabeth debated the possibility of this for what seemed to be hours in her mind and in Harry's, but it was actually only for a few minutes. She drew the conclusion, that with Dumbledore gone, it seemed like the perfect time for Snape to go in for the prize, if Harry was right. Even if he wasn't, she decided she had to help stop whoever turned out to be trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone. She wanted to succeed where she failed last time and help Harry, even if that meant getting expelled.

"All right, I'm in," she said. "We'll use the invisibility cloak and sneak down to the forbidden corridor tonight."

"But will the invisibility cloak cover all four of us?" said Hermione.

"All ─ all four of us?" Harry sounded surprised.

"Well, of course," said Ron. "We're not going to let you two go without us."

"But if we get caught, you two will get expelled too."

Elizabeth stopped for a moment. "Why is it okay for me to get expelled, but not them?"

"Well ─ I thought ─ you're always ─"

She waved it off. "Yeah, I know, I'm trouble." She sighed and whispered under her breath, "Gran is going to kill me for this."

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter Fourteen, Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback, pages 238 to 239 and page 241. Chapter Fifteen, The Forbidden Forest, pages 244 to 245, page 247, and pages 259 to 260. Chapter Sixteen, Through the Trapdoor, pages 262 to 263, and 270 to 271.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

After dinner, Elizabeth had fallen asleep in the common room, waiting for midnight to come when they'd all sneak out again.

"Do you think we should wake her up?" Hermione asked.

"No, Hermione, we should let her sleep," said Ron sarcastically. "She's so much use to us that way."

"I'm still more useful in my sleep than you are awake," said Elizabeth, opening her eyes and stretching. "Where's Harry?"

Harry entered the common room holding the invisibility cloak. "I think we should try it on here to make sure all four of us fit."

"What are you doing?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair.

"Nothing," said Harry, quickly hiding the cloak behind his back.

Neville looked at their guilty faces. "You're going out again."

"Fine, yes, we are," said Elizabeth, exasperated. "But for a good reason."

"You'll get caught again."

"And what will they do to us then? Expel us? I'm not bothered by that, Neville. Some things are just more important than that."

"I won't let you go." Neville hurried to stand in front of the portrait hole.

"Get out of the way, Neville," Ron ordered.

"No, you told me to stand up to people!"

"Not to _us_."

"Neville, move before I make you," growled Elizabeth.

"But if you get caught you'll lose even more points for Gryffindor and ─"

"We wouldn't have lost any points in the first place if you had just followed the ruddy plan!"

Neville looked rebuked, but stood his ground.

Suddenly Hermione shouted, "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Neville's body went rigid. His arms snapped to his sides and his legs sprang together. His body swayed and then fell flat on his face. Hermione rushed to turn him over. He couldn't speak, the only thing that could move was his eyes.

"Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry," Hermione croaked.

"What did you do to him?" whispered Harry.

"She petrified him," said Elizabeth in terror. "You just petrified Neville, Hermione!"

"I ─ I didn't mean to," said Hermione shaken. "I had to do something."

"You didn't have to do _that_ to him," said Ron.

"Well, now that Hermione's cursed our concerned friend, let's go." Elizabeth stepped over Neville. She bent down and whispered to him. "Don't worry, Neville, we'll be back before you know it."

They all stepped out the portrait hole leaving poor Neville alone on the floor. At every corner they thought they would run into Filch. Every statue's shadow made them jump and every breath of wind sounded like Peeves. They were sure they were going to get caught, but they continued on. They climbed the staircase to the third floor. Peeves was bobbing halfway up, loosening the carpet so people would trip.

"Oh no, now what do we do?" whispered Ron.

"Shh!" Elizabeth hushed him, but it was too late.

"Who's there?" said Peeves narrowing his wicked black eyes. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you." His eyes darted around. "Should call Filch, I should, if something's a-creeping around unseen."

Elizabeth suddenly had an idea. She jumped out from under the invisibility cloak. "No Peeves, don't do that," she said, "Mr. Filch would surely have me expelled."

"Izzy Wizzy, should tell Filch, I should, for your own good," said Peeves in an angelic voice, a wicked smile forming.

"No fun in that," said Elizabeth. "It'd completely ruin my plan."

"Plan?"

"Oh yes." Elizabeth had Peeves exactly where she wanted him. "I wouldn't be able to get back at McGonagall for taking away all those points from Gryffindor if you did. I guess the dungbombs I asked Fred and George to pick up for me in Hogsmeade are now just going to go to waste. Go ahead Peeves, call Filch if you must."

"Dungbombs you say?"

Elizabeth pulled one from her pocket. "Want it?" Peeves' eyes glowed with delight.

Elizabeth began looking all around the empty corridor. When her eyes rested on where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still standing under the invisibility cloak, she mouthed, "Go," to them.

They crept past Peeves as quietly as they could and made their way towards the forbidden corridor. They could hear Elizabeth still distracting Peeves.

"How can I be sure that you won't call Filch the moment I give you this?" she said.

The door to the third-floor corridor was already ajar. They pushed it open farther to enter, with a squeak. Peeves' attention snapped their way. Elizabeth suddenly took off the other way. Peeves followed after her, screaming, "STUDENT OUT OF BED!"

Elizabeth kept a good distance in front of Peeves, traversing down the corridors, making sharp turns in an attempt to lose him. He kept up with her, continuing to bellow for Filch. She bolted up a staircase, emerging on the fourth floor. Out of breath, she began slowing down involuntarily. Peeves was now gaining on her. Looking back she saw him glaring at her, wickedly laughing to himself. Elizabeth looked forward to see why he was laughing. Filch was running towards them, panting. She had nowhere to go. She was trapped between the two of them. She kept running from Peeves, only to get closer to a far worse doom. Out of desperation, she clasped the dungbomb firmly in her hand. She was only a few feet away from Filch when she stopped dead in her tracks. Filch kept advancing. Peeves swooped over her. She threw the dungbomb right in the middle of the two. As soon as it exploded in a whirl of noxious gas, she spun around and retreated the way she had come. She could hear Filch scream and curse as Peeves whooshed away from him, laughing manically.

On her way back to the forbidden corridor she had slowed down to a steady walk. She was cautiously scanning her surroundings in case Filch or Peeves were to jump out and catch her. She heard a low rustling sound. She crouched into the shadows. She saw Mrs. Norris shuffle into the light from one of the windows. She held her breath, trying not to give away her location. The cat paused. Elizabeth pulled another dungbomb from her pocket and rolled it towards Mrs. Norris. She batted in around before shooting it down the corridor and taking off after it.

"I've really got to thank Fred and George for those dungbombs," Elizabeth whispered to herself. "They really come in handy."

Elizabeth silently crept back towards the third corridor. Before she could reach it to help her friends with whatever they were facing through the trapdoor, she got a whiff of a horrid odour.

"I know you're around here, Wellington." It was Filch. No doubt Elizabeth was smelling the odour from the dungbomb she threw at him. "Come out, come out wherever you are," he said menacingly.

Elizabeth bit her lip as she stepped into plain view.

"I've got you now," said Filch, moving towards her. "Dungbombs are not allowed at Hogwarts."

She pulled the final dungbomb from Fred and George out of her pocket. "That makes them all the more fun."

Elizabeth held her breath and threw the dungbomb between her and Filch. It exploded over both of them and Elizabeth took the opportunity to run the opposite way, having depleted her arsenal. She ran down a staircase to the second floor. When sure she had lost Filch for the final time that night, she stopped to rest. She slid down against the cold stone wall to catch her breath, her legs aching. She heard the faint sound of crying coming from down the corridor. She thought it surely couldn't have been Filch, he was incapable of showing emotion. Elizabeth remembered Halloween when Hermione had hid in the toilet crying. She didn't want to feel responsible if whoever was crying in the bathroom wound up in trouble like Hermione had. She got up and made her way towards the sound. It was coming from the girls' toilet. She entered cautiously.

"Hello," she said timidly. "Is anyone in here?"

"Who wants to know?" said a voice sulkily.

"Um, I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Why do you care!"

A squat ghost of a girl flew over. She had lank hair and a seriously doleful demeanor. Silver tears were falling from her small, see-through eyes, that were hidden behind thick glasses.

"Oh, I didn't know ─"

"Know what?" said the ghost. "That poor Myrtle was here crying in the toilet!"

"No, I didn't ─"

"Don't lie to me. I know why you came in here. Everyone loves to make fun of Moaning Myrtle."

"I honestly didn't even know you existed."

"Oh, so now I'm not important enough for you to bother making fun of, is that it?"

"No! I mean, I don't want to make fun of you. I just came in here to see who was crying is all."

"Well, now you know so get out!"

"Gosh, you are the most unpleasant ghost I've ever had the misfortune to meet." Elizabeth ran from the toilet as Myrtle's sobs turned into cries of anger. She quickly climbed another staircase to get away from the gloomy ghost.

It had been a long night. She had been running for what seemed to be hours, diving in and out of corridors, hiding from Filch, Peeves, and Mrs. Norris. She was sure she had been all throughout the castle twice trying to avoid them, while keeping them on her trail so Filch wouldn't get wise to Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the forbidden corridor. She felt more exhausted than exam week. Her legs ached with every step, her heart was beating out of her chest, her throat was dry, and her stomach was growling from hunger, probably from all the running. She just wanted to get back to the common room and wait for them to come back.

"Elizabeth!" cried Hermione as she reached the top of the staircase. "Oh, Elizabeth, come quick!"

"Why? What's wrong?" said Elizabeth nervously.

"It's Harry. Dumbledore just carried him off to the hospital wing!"

* * *

**A/N: **Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, Chapter Sixteen, Through the Trapdoor, pages 271 to 275.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

"Hey, Elizabeth!"

It was a beautiful afternoon, but sadly she wasn't enjoying it. Harry had been in the hospital wing for three days. She insisted on staying at his bedside until he woke up, but Madam Pomfrey had thrown her out and refused to let her back at all. That didn't stop her from spending all her free time whinging outside the hospital wing until Madam Pomfrey threatened to get Professor McGonagall.

"Hey Fred, hey George," she said as she turned around to see the Weasley twins approaching her. "I meant to thank you for those dungbombs you gave me. Remind that I owe you one later."

"More like three," said Fred.

"How 'bout I don't tell your mother that you're supplying them to students and we'll call it even."

"Deal," said Fred hesitantly.

Elizabeth smiled. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Weasley."

"Going back to the hospital wing?" asked George.

"Of course. I think if I'm persistent enough Pomfrey will break. Sorry that she confiscated the toilet seat you sent Harry. Bet he would have got a kick out of it."

"Yeah, so you'll tell us when he wakes up, all right?"

"Will do. See you two later."

Her relationship had really come along with Fred and George. She was no longer mad about the tree incident and they were no longer mad about the Pharaoh incident. They reached a nice ceasefire and she finally considered them her friends.

Even though she was worried sick about Harry, she was still sour she never bet Ron about Snape. It was Quirrell all along who was after the Stone and he had perished down in the dungeons trying to get it. Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all fine after the night's events. None of them had gotten Gryffindor in any more trouble and even Mr. Filch had stopped giving off that dungbomb smell. The dirt had even come off Elizabeth's hands after a few washings. She was ready for the school term to finally be over so she could go home. Surely she was going to have one heck of a summer once her grandmother heard what happened. Despite the imminent trouble, she missed her home above Flourish & Blotts and spending her days in the bookshop with her grandfather. She missed her bedroom, she missed the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley, and mostly she missed William. She couldn't wait to get back and tell him all about her first year in Gryffindor. She thought he would surely be anxious to hear how she got along there.

She reached the double doors of the hospital wing. Before she opened them she heard a voice that made her stop. It was Harry. She pressed her ear against the door to hear better.

"And the invisibility cloak ─ do you know who sent it to me?"

"Ah, indeed I do," said Professor Dumbledore. "Mr. Wellington is in possession of quite of few of his fallen friends' items. I assume he thought you might like it. He was fond of it himself in his school days. He used to borrow it from your father and use it to sneak around the castle. Mainly, he would go out after bed and would nick items from a teacher, usually hanging it from the Whomping Willow. He was quite a handful in his time here."

Elizabeth had heard about that. William had a terrible habit of doing terrible things with his terrible friends, according to Margaret, of course. One of his favourites was to take things from people he particularly disliked, like Professor McGonagall, and hang them on the top branches of the Whomping Willow. She never found this amusing and he always got detention for it. He had more detention with McGonagall stories than anyone else that ever had her at Hogwarts, Elizabeth was sure.

"Elizabeth's uncle sent it to me?"

"Yes, he did. He wrote me a letter shortly after the night you got that scar that he had salvaged a few things from your parents he thought you might care to have when you got older. He wrote me another letter shortly after sending it to you that he had thought it was time to start turning them over to their rightful owner."

"But then why didn't he sign the card?"

"Well Harry, he never has." Dumbledore laughed.

Elizabeth smiled. That was William. He never did sign his name to anything. Elizabeth felt that the invisibility cloak must have come out of the wardrobe and whatever else William had kept in there with it had been relocated. Claudius must have known all along what was in there and what William's intentions were, so he sent the key back using Elizabeth, hearing from Richard that she had met Harry at school that year. They functioned so similar, William and Claudius, sometimes, that it was a wonder why they ever split paths.

The double doors opened to reveal Professor Dumbledore.

"Miss Wellington," he said, " I expected you to be close by. I assume you know he's awake."

"Yes sir," said Elizabeth meekly.

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt for you to see him." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Professor." She walked in quietly, not to alert herself to Madam Pomfrey's attention. "Harry!" she exclaimed. She rushed towards him and threw her arms around him.

"Ouch! Elizabeth, my head's still sore."

"Sorry," said Elizabeth embarrassed, letting go of him.

"OUT!" yelled Madam Pomfrey spotting Elizabeth. "Wellington, get out! Potter needs his rest."

"He's been knocked out for three days," Elizabeth whinged. "He's rested enough."

"Please, Madam Pomfrey," Harry pleaded, "just five minutes."

"Absolutely not," said Madam Pomfrey sternly.

"But you let Professor Dumbledore in," said Elizabeth.

"Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. Potter needs _rest_."

"He's resting. Look, he's laying down."

Madam Pomfrey glared at Elizabeth, but finally gave in. "Very well. But five minutes _only_."

"_Harry!_"

Ron and Hermione had come to visit Harry as well. Madam Pomfrey looked at them, then Elizabeth.

"Don't look at me," said Elizabeth innocently. "I didn't tell them."

"Oh, Harry, we were so worried!" said Hermione.

"The whole school's talking about it," said Ron. "What really happened?"

Harry told them everything. He told them all about Quirrell, retrieving the Stone from the mirror, and most importantly Voldemort.

"So Quirrell had Voldemort under his turban?" said Ron. Harry nodded. "Wow, I never would have guessed he'd be evil."

"And I thought all along that turban only bothered me because it blocked the blackboard," said Elizabeth.

"So the Stone's gone?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore said it was destroyed," said Harry.

"Well, thank goodness," said Hermione. "At least this is all over."

"Not yet," said Ron. "There's still the end-of-year feast tomorrow. Slytherin won the house cup again. We got crushed in the last Quidditch match without you."

"Way to be uplifting, Ron," said Elizabeth.

At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT," she said firmly.

The next day for the end-of-year feast, the Great Hall was decorated in green and silver, celebrating Slytherin's winning of the house cup for the seventh year in a row. Elizabeth sat across from Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. All around the Great Hall, students were chatting. Elizabeth could see Richard at the Ravenclaw table in a particularly sour mood. He didn't enjoy the fact Slytherin had won the house cup again, nor did he enjoy the thought of how their grandmother was going to react when she heard of all the trouble Elizabeth had caused this year. Richard was furious with her over the incident with Filch, but instead of being concerned about what would happen to her, he was more concerned about what would happen to him once their grandmother found out. She always made it clear to Richard that he had a responsibility to Elizabeth as her older brother. Richard and Elizabeth didn't see it that way, as they had felt more like strangers than siblings until this year, but as long as Margaret held that notion they could rest assured they would not be receiving a warm welcome home this year.

On the other side of the hall she could see the Slytherins rejoicing in their victory. Draco Malfoy was looking especially smug. The whole hall lowered to hushed whispers as Harry walked in. Everybody started talking loudly again as he slipped into the seat next to Elizabeth at the Gryffindor table. Students were standing up trying to look at him. Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later and the chatter died away.

"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully.

As Dumbledore continued his speech, Elizabeth's mind wandered to the events of the past year. From the train ride and the sorting to exams and the events of last week. It was hard to believe that shortly she'd be returning to her home in Diagon Alley, above the bustling sounds of people shopping and conversing with one another. She wasn't so enthusiastic about the end of the school year anymore. She remembered that to some, Hogwarts was their home. Not everyone looked forward to getting off the Hogwarts Express in June. She knew that for Harry this was true, and that the summer holidays were going to be unbearable for him.

The stillness of the room caught Elizabeth's attention.

"I have a few last-minute points to dish out," said Dumbledore. "Let me see. Yes, first ─ to Mr. Ronald Weasley..."

Ron's face went purple. He looked like a radish with a bad sunburn.

"...for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor cheers filled the hall. Ron seemed as though he was about to faint. Finally, the room settled down again and Dumbledore continued.

"Second ─ to Miss Hermione Granger ... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor fifty house points."

Hermione looked as though she was about to cry as Gryffindor house burst into loud, celebratory yells for they were now up a hundred points. Hermione buried her face in her arms and Elizabeth was sure she was now in tears.

"Third ─ to Mr. Harry Potter..." The hall went dead quiet. "... for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor sixty points."

The outcry was deafening. Elizabeth threw her arms around Harry's neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. When she let him go he turned slightly red. Elizabeth was grinning broadly, practically bouncing out of her seat. She tapped Hermione on the arm.

"Oh, Hermione, head up!" she squealed with anticipation. "We've just tied with Slytherin for the house cup!"

Both Gryffindor and Slytherin now had four hundred and seventy-two points. Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.

"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Gryffindor table erupted in a loud noise. Neville had just won them the house cup. The four of them stood up to yell and cheer as Neville disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. Neville had never won as much as a point for Gryffindor before, but now he had helped them win the house cup.

"I still feel just awful for petrifying him," Hermione admitted.

Elizabeth laughed and looked over to Ron and Harry, who were pointing at a stunned and horrified Malfoy.

"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin.

Elizabeth could barely see Richard cheering with his friends. She was glad he had cheered up though. She would hate to have had to listened to him complain about her inability to behave herself _and_ Slytherin winning the house cup all summer.

"We need a little change of decoration," said Dumbledore.

He clapped his hands and in an instant the green and silver hangings in the hall had changed to scarlet and gold. The huge banner of the Slytherin serpent was replaced with a towering Gryffindor lion. The Slytherins' smug smiles had all faded into bitter scowls as the rest of the hall rejoiced.

Soon enough exam results were in. Of course, Hermione had achieved the highest marks of all the first years. No one seemed bothered by this. All were just happy they passed.

"See," said Hermione comparing marks with Harry, Ron, and Elizabeth, "all that revision paid off."

"What revision?" said Elizabeth. "I don't believe I've revised all year."

"Believe what you want, but I helped you all pass."

"Whatever you say, Hermione."

Truly, Elizabeth hadn't needed Hermione to tell her to study. She was confident in herself, but not to a point where it overshadowed logic. She knew she had to revise to pass her exams. Hermione's revision timetables and constant nagging had no effect other than to give Elizabeth several headaches. She wasn't going to tell Hermione that though. She decided to let her have her moment of self-aggrandising. After all, Elizabeth felt that Harry, Ron, and Hermione deserved it. They did save the school more than once throughout the year.

* * *

**A/N:** Quotes and Plot from Chapter Seventeen, The Man with Two Faces, pages 295 to 302, and 304 to 307.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

It wasn't long before all their wardrobes were empty and their trunks were packed. Notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays, but Elizabeth wondered how likely she was to heed this warning. Seeing as she'd be kicked out of school if she didn't, she knew she would have to.

Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake. They all boarded the Hogwarts Express, laughing and talking. The countryside became greener and tidier as they traveled closer to King's Cross Station. The train sped passed Muggles towns and soon they were almost there. They pulled off their wizard robes and put on their normal clothing.

"It feels so good to be out of those for a long time to come," said Elizabeth.

"I actually like them," said Hermione, folding hers neatly and putting them in her trunk.

"Of course you would. Me, I need comfort and function. Hogwarts robes possess neither of those qualities."

"Well, you just wait. Before you know it you'll be back in class, wearing your robes every day."

"Something to look forward to," said Elizabeth sarcastically.

"Just promise you'll write over the holidays."

"Only if you promise not to write back." Hermione was about to say something, but Elizabeth interrupted. "The train's stopping." She noticed the train had just begun to pull into platform nine and three-quarters. "I better go find Richard, otherwise he'll try and trick Uncle William into leaving me here. See you Harry, Hermione. Ron, I'll see over the holiday?"

"If my mum doesn't kill me," Ron said.

"Your mum? What about my gran? She's going to kill me, then kill Richard, and _then_ kill Uncle William."

She exchanged her last goodbyes with them as she spotted Richard getting off the train. She ran up to him and stuck by his side until they were able to get off the platform. An old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn't attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once.

"Hey Richard," called Percy once they were through the barrier.

Richard waved at him. "Stay here a minute," he said to Elizabeth. "And I mean it, Elizabeth Ann."

Elizabeth simply stayed still as Richard jogged over to Percy and a few of his other prefect friends to say their final goodbyes. She could see Harry, Ron, and Hermione meeting up with Ron's mother and little sister Ginny. She waved to them.

"Who's the girl?"

Elizabeth glanced to her left to see William standing next to her, peering around the station. Something was different about him. Elizabeth noticed his clothes. His trousers had no holes in them and he was wearing a nice shirt, tucked in and all. His hair had been brushed flat, although he kept trying to smooth down some little piece on the side that was sticking out.

"That's Hermione," said Elizabeth dazedly. "What are you wearing?" She was shocked that for once he looked semi-presentable.

"Oh, this," he said looking down at his attire. "Do you like it?"

"It's ─ different," admitted Elizabeth.

"I told Mum that too, but she insisted I wear the clothes she bought me for Christmas at least once this year."

Richard had joined them with his trunk and Telemachus, perched quietly in the cage, sleeping, without falling over or making noise.

"Go to see Claudius again?" he asked, smirking.

"Shut it, Richard," said William, smoothing his hair again.

"Did you give him his key back?" Elizabeth asked.

William put her trunk on the cart and picked her up, placing her on top. "I did. Hold on." He began pushing the cart. Richard was moving with him at a steady pace.

"I saw what you gave Harry for Christmas."

"You did? Did he like it?"

"It's quite useful."

"I thought so too when James had it back when we went to school. We all used to get in loads of trouble with that thing."

"Oh!" cried Elizabeth as she just remembered. "I have your book, [i]An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms[/i]."

"Oh, do you now?" said William, clearly in a good mood. "I had wondered what Mum did with that."

"I nicked it!" Elizabeth seemed proud of herself.

William laughed. "Don't tell Mum that."

"Hey, Uncle William," Richard spoke up, smiling.

"Yeah?"

"Guess who won the house cup this year."

* * *

**A/N: **Elizabeth's journey continues in _Elizabeth Wellington and The Family_ Secret, now posted. Thanks for reading!


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